


reconfigure my life

by VillainousTalking (rainbowshoes)



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: (past) - Freeform, Aftermath of Torture, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst Dark Brew, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Gore, Bullying, Captivity, Child Abuse, Childhood Sexual Abuse, De-Aged Tony Stark, Drinking, Drug Use, Eating Disorders, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Guns, Hospitalization, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Howard was also a dick, Hurt Tony Stark, Hydra are dicks, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kid Tony Stark, Kidnapping, Lots of Hurt, M/M, Medical Procedures, Mental Health Issues, Murder, Not Steve Friendly, Past Child Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Pedophilia, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Bucky Barnes, Sexual Abuse, Stane was a dick, Suicidal Thoughts, Swearing, Tags Are Hard, Torture, Verbal Abuse, Violence, Weapons, bodies/corpses, but i'm pretty sure i got everything, just to be clear most of the abuse tags are for the past, not as much comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2019-09-28 23:44:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 71,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17192441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowshoes/pseuds/VillainousTalking
Summary: HYDRA didn't create only one magic-user while in possession of Loki's scepter. There's another, and his powers are... a little different from Wanda's. The Avengers crew breaks into a HYDRA base to rescue Tony, who was kidnapped three weeks ago. Only, he isn't the way he was when he left them to go check out the place. Instead, he's now five and a half years old. And he's absolutely terrified of Steve. The Avengers do what they can to keep little-Tony happy until they can get Strange to come take a look at him, and (hopefully) change him back to his rightful age. It's not so easy dealing with a traumatized five-year-old, though, especially one who has some major attachment issues. Toward Bucky, of all people. Throw in some HYDRA shenanigans, and it makes for an interesting time, if not the most peaceful. Older-Tony isn't going to appreciate how much little-Tony blabs, either, but it's pretty hard to tell a five-year-old to shut up when no one wants to hurt his feelings...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> try giving [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WhFzTUsaYIg) a listen first (i feel like it sets the mood) (also where the title comes from)  
> this is my grimdark angst baby i've been working on since... the end of november, apparently (just checked the creation date on the doc - i thought it was longer than that, guess not)  
> have 45k worth of angst  
> it's completed (sort of) and i'll post chapters at a pretty steady rate until i'm done  
> most of the abuse tags are things that happened to past-tony - none of the avengers abuse him, thanks (but steve is the bully)  
> this fic is NOT steve friendly, k? i don't bash him, but it ain't real friendly, either  
> enough of this. read. hopefully you'll enjoy it. (if youre an angst gremlin like me, you probably will)

The base they're coming up on is one Bucky isn't particularly familiar with. That isn't such a surprise, honestly. There were thousands or hundreds of thousands of HYDRA bases all over the world, and he'd seen, perhaps, only a fraction of them during his tenure as their pet asset. Not that he particularly enjoys remembering those times, but he does what he needs to, remembers what he needs to remember, for the sake of their missions. It's never easy, and he never likes parsing through those bloody, cold memories, but he does it. It's a sacrifice he's willing to make. More so when one of his teammates are in danger. But while this base is one of the few he has been to before, his memories of it are dim and distant. Not old, he doesn't think, but fuzzy, somehow, in a way he is unfamiliar with.

“Something's...wrong,” he says slowly, quietly. Natasha is the closest to him, the one who turns her head ever so slightly to indicate she's actively listening. “I've been here, but I can't remember it. Not the details.”

“Not all of your memories have returned,” she offers as a possible explanation. 

Bucky shakes his head. “That's not it. There's...a haze? The memories I recover are perfectly clear. You know that.” She concedes the point. He'd remembered more about the Red Room than she had, after all. They'd twisted her memories of the place, too, and it was only through his perfect recall that she was able to realize the pair of them never actually had a sexual relationship, that she'd never actually been any sort of ballerina. “These memories were tampered with, but not by the chair.”

“There's magic here,” Wanda reports. Red sparks dance from her fingers, and she frowns down at her hands. “The same kind of magic as mine, but...different.”

“More abilities born from the mind gem,” Vision states with a pensive frown. The synthezoid has gotten better at displaying more complex emotions, but it's still a work in progress. “I can...feel them. Like calls to like.”

“That memory of yours, Buck,” Steve says, “about this place. You have anything we can work with?”

“Yellow mist,” Bucky says with a frown, then shakes his head. “I know the layout of the building well enough. The blueprints help, but I can...I can see the halls and the rooms, now. They did experiments here.” He jerks his chin at Wanda. “Probably making more people like her.” He and Wanda have a complicated relationship that's mostly solved by staying as far from each other as they can get. Typically, they wouldn't even go on the same mission together. So few threats require the entire team, after all. 

This time, they weren't leaving anything to chance. It's been three weeks since Tony was kidnapped. They'd been on a different mission, with different priorities, and the HYDRA agents had swarmed him while he was out of his suit to strip down their databanks and some equipment to make it safe to transport. The recovered footage FRIDAY had pulled showed that there was a bright yellow flash of light before the agents, and Tony, had vanished. Tony may have been notoriously good at getting himself unkidnapped, but they'd seen nor heard nothing from him, and they hadn't stopped looking. This was, most likely, the right place. If it wasn't, they'd try again, but they were getting more and more desperate as time went by.

Clint lands the quinjet without issue, the new cloaking technology Tony had invented and installed before the kidnapping preventing anyone in the base from registering their presence. It was brilliant tech, and Bucky longed to sit Tony down and make him explain how it worked. Maybe he'd get the chance to do that to keep Tony busy while he was in recovery. No way would anyone let him skip medical and jump right back into missions after something like this, even with an extremely modified Extremis pumping through his veins.

Storming the base with two super soldiers, two magic users, Sam, and Clint, takes far less time than it really should, Bucky thinks. No one was at all prepared for them. Bucky tries to remember to use non lethal shots as he takes out the HYDRA scum, but, well, he's not overly concerned when he ‘forgets,’ either. At least Steve doesn't call him out on it. The two of them wound up paired together as they ran through the base ahead of the others, ‘tanking’ their way through, as Tony would have described it. God, Bucky misses him. 

The HYDRA forces thin considerably the deeper they go underground. Not a surprise, not really, considering they'd thrown so many troops at them initially. Yet Bucky expected more. A growing sense of dread builds in his stomach as they go down to the last level of the bunker. He slows considerably. Steve notices and matches his pace, the grip on his shield tightening.

“Buck? What's going on?” Steve asks in an undertone. 

“This was where they did the experiments,” Bucky says lowly. He grimaces and shakes his head a little, trying to clear the fog in his mind. “Fuck. I don't remember. Not what they did.” They clear the first three rooms without issue. Bucky shoots the targets with extreme prejudice - two chest shots and a headshot for each, uncaring of the looks Steve is sending his way. He...probably could stop himself, but he doesn't care to. Why should he? They're HYDRA; they don't deserve his mercy. They certainly never had any for him.

The fourth room isn't the last room for them to clear, but that's where everything happens. Steve breaks in first, forcing the door and letting Bucky cover him. Bucky takes out two agents, but the third, a young man with short, curly blond hair, vanishes in the haze of yellow before Bucky can get more than one round in him. He knows he shot the man, but he knows it wasn't lethal, not entirely. Without medical treatment, it will be, but Bucky has very few doubts that one of HYDRA's prized assets will receive prime medical care.

Then Bucky hears the screaming. It isn't a man's panicked screams, nor a woman’s. He turns slowly, lowering his gun. Those are a child's screams, and dread has made his guts turn to water. Steve is standing over the kid, trying to placate him while struggling with the heavy cuffs around the kid's wrists. The kid is struggling to get away from Steve, though, the sound and pitch of his screams becoming louder and higher as Steve goes from pleading with the kid to be still to  _ ordering _ him. 

“Stevie, back away from him,” Bucky says in a low, quiet voice. He knows,  _ knows _ , he looks far less friendly than Steve, with no less than three guns strapped to his back, two on each thigh beside two sets of knives, another gun at the small of his back, one on his left ankle with a larger trench knife on his right ankle. There's black greasepaint smeared under his eyes that makes him look like a racoon, and his hair, while mostly scraped back from his face in a tight ponytail, has come loose in thick chunks and is heavy with blood and sweat. The heavy black boots, black tac gear, and shining metal arm are nothing that will ever endear him to a child, but he can't let Steve stand there and terrify the kid any worse. 

“Buck -”

“Move,” Bucky snaps, low and vicious. Steve drops his hands and takes two large steps back, hands up in a show of surrender. It's only a show, and mostly for Bucky, but he doesn't care. He crouches low, still several feet from the kid. The kid's screaming has dropped off to soft whimpers. He's curled up in the far corner, his back pressed to the wall and his cuffed arms wrapped uncomfortably around his knees, which are smushed into his skinny chest. His huge brown eyes are ringed with thick, dark lashes that are clumped together with tears. 

“Hey kid,” Bucky says quietly. He doesn't reach out, doesn't move forward. “My name is Bucky. That's Steve. I'm sorry he scared you. He was trying to get those cuffs off your arms.” He nods at the boy's arms. “Can't be comfortable, with you all smushed up like that.”

The boy shakes his head, then wipes his tear-streaked cheeks on his shoulders. The little blue tee shirt he's wearing is, Bucky notices belatedly, stained with blood. It doesn't look fresh, which is a small blessing, but he can't be sure since he can't see all of the kid. “That's - that's Captain America.” He whispers this like it's a great secret, probably doesn't realize Steve isn't far enough away to even need his serum to hear him. Bucky nods slowly. The kid lowers his head and peers at Bucky through black, messy curls limp with sweat and grease. “He - he’ll hurt me. Dad said. When he caught me in his lab. Said he'd find Cap special, just to get me.”

“Stevie, get Nat,” Bucky says, voice tight. He's dreading the realization he's just made. 

“Buck, you know I'd never -” Steve tries to argue. He sounds wrecked and horribly distressed.

“Not the time,” Bucky says, turning to look at Steve. “Get Nat, get out, finish clearing this place.” Steve nods miserably, obviously missing Bucky's subtle hand signals. Whatever. Natasha will understand. He turns his attention to the kid as soon as Steve leaves. “Tell ya a secret, kiddo. I can make Stevie do whatever I want.”

“You're Bucky,” the boy whispers with wide eyes. Bucky's eyes go wide, too, not expecting that  _ at all _ . “You're Captain America’s best friend. You - you're the best sniper, like ever. I liked you best. Dad - Dad said you was a coward, for shooting people so far away, but I didn't.” The boy leans forward just a little, eyes wide with curiosity now. “They said you died.” He lowers his voice dramatically. “Are you a  _ zombie _ ?”

Bucky grins broadly and holds out his metal hand a bit, just to show it off. “Not quite, but I'm part robot now.” The boy's eyes are so big, it's a wonder they don't pop out of his head. “If you'll let me take those cuffs off ya, I'll let you look at my arm. Sound fair?”

The boy shrinks back again immediately, the curiosity turning to fear. “It hurts,” he says timidly. “When...when they take ‘em off.” He sniffs a little. “There's an electric current running through them. I couldn't let Captain America break them. The shock’ll kill me. I'm too little. They had a special key. I dunno where it is, though. I tried to pick the lock, once, but I shocked myself really bad, and…” He drops his eyes to the floor and curls even tighter around himself. “It made me pee my pants. They didn't like that.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Bucky says with a nod. “We'll find the key, promise.” It takes nearly all his control to keep his voice soft and even when he just wants to rage against the assholes who thought it was okay to put a little kid in electric magcuffs. He can hear Natasha's quiet footsteps already, and he sighs. “A friend of mine, Natasha, is on her way here to help us, okay? She'll help us find the key and get you out of those cuffs. I promise I won't let anyone hurt you, okay?” 

“My name's Tony,” the kid says. Bucky nods, though he'd suspected. He almost hates to have it confirmed. “Why...why are you helping me? Dad won't pay you.”

“Because you're a kid, Tony,” Bucky says. He wants to bring Howard back from the dead and rip out his heart, but since he can't, he'll settle for being as nice to this child version of Tony as he can be. “No one has to pay me to help you. I want to. Everyone with me does. We've been looking for you for weeks. It just took a long time to find you.” 

There are two quick taps on the outside of the door Steve had awkwardly shoved closed when he left. “Mind if I come in?”

Bucky looks at Tony. “That's Natasha. Can she come in?” Tony looks at Bucky like he's weird for asking him, but he nods anyway. “Yeah, Nat, come on in.” Tony shrinks against the wall at the sight of her. “Natasha, this is Tony. Tony, this is my friend Natasha.” Bucky shifts a little to keep Natasha and Tony both in his sights. “Nat, those are electric magcuffs. We have to find the key.” 

“I might have liberated a set of keys on my way here,” Natasha says with a thin smile. She tosses the keyring to Bucky, which makes Tony flinch badly and try to hide his face against his shoulder and the wall. Bucky curses internally, and Natasha stiffens slightly, which is the only indication that Tony's reaction means something to her.

“Hey, Tony?” Bucky says quietly. “I'm sorry she threw the keys. She didn't mean to scare you.” He signals for her to back off, and Natasha steps into the hallway but doesn't leave. “She left the room. Does that help?” Tony carefully peeks away from his shoulder and glances around, then relaxes slowly. “Great. Want me to unlock the cuffs, now? It means have to get closer to you, though.”

“Please,” Tony says, his voice soft and pleading. “Please get them off.” 

“Just hold still, okay?” Bucky says gently. He slides closer to Tony, not moving too quickly but also not inching along. Tony holds out his arms, so Bucky settles on his ass on the cold floor and rests Tony's arms over his leg to try to make him just a bit more comfortable. He doesn't want Tony to have to hold his arms up with the heavy cuffs on them the entire time Bucky is going through the keyring. 

The first key that looks like it might fit isn't the one. Bucky hears the faint static of an electrical discharge, but Tony barely flinches and doesn't make a sound. Bucky rubs around Tony's wrists with his flesh thumb apologetically. Tony's eyes are narrowed as he studies the keyring, though. 

“Any guesses?” Bucky asks, opening his hand to show off the entire set.

“The gold key with number 176 engraved on the side,” Tony says immediately. “Looks like that one will fit best.” Bucky nods, grabs that key, and fits it into the slot. Tony cringes and whimpers softly, and Bucky snatches the key away. Tony is panting softly and sweating a little and shaking all over, but he jerks his head at the key ring. “Try the next gold one. Number 982.” 

“Tony,” Bucky says gently. “It's hurting you. Let's take a break, okay?” 

“No,” Tony insists. “That one will work, okay? It has to. There isn't another key on that set that might fit. Just do it.” He pushes his hands out further, and Bucky sighs softly before nodding and finding the right key. It clicks into place with another static sound, but he turns it before it can discharge, and the cuffs fall open around Tony's wrists. Bucky grabs them and tosses them away. The loud clatter makes Tony flinch badly, but then he's throwing himself in Bucky's arms and hiding against his chest.

“Thank you,” Tony whispers. Bucky can feel the hot tears on the side of his neck. He rubs Tony's back as gently as he can, hoping he doesn't scare the poor kid even worse. “Can I go home now? I miss my mom.”

“We can get out of here, but we can't take you home,” Bucky says, trying to be honest without telling the entire truth. Tony accepts that with a nod, though, which is surprising. “Want me to carry you? I don't mind.”

“I can walk,” Tony says, but it sounds reluctant. 

“How about I carry you anyway? There's...a lot of gross stuff everywhere out there. We'll get you out and on the ‘jet, okay?” Bucky gently climbs to his feet without jostling Tony much. Tony clings to Bucky's neck and doesn't lift his head. “Just keep your eyes closed, all right?” Tony nods against his neck, and Bucky walks to the door. 

Natasha gives Bucky a short nod, and the pair of them make their way through the bunker silently. Clint drops in behind them at some point, and Vision fades through the walls to join them a little later. Wanda, Sam, and Steve are waiting for them outside, with Steve closest to the bunker and Sam closest to the ‘jet.

“Bucky?” Steve asks, voice subdued. Tony cringes against Bucky's side, so Bucky rubs his back as gently and soothingly as he can.

“This is Tony,” Natasha says. She catches Bucky's eye and he nods very slightly, little more than a dip of his chin. “He's hurt right now, but he likes Bucky, so we are going to give them space.” She directs that order at Steve, who can only nod meekly. “Tony, Sam knows a little bit about first aid. Will you let him look at you when we get on the ‘jet?” 

“If I have to,” Tony murmurs into Bucky's neck. Bucky whispers encouragements to him as he waits for the others to go the to ‘jet first. They are quick to pile up front and leave the back for Sam, Bucky, and Tony. It's not ideal, but it's the best they can do for the moment. Bucky has no idea what they'll do when they get to the compound, but he figures they'll cross that bridge when they get to it. Sam sits in one of the seats after shedding his pack and jacket to make himself look as least imposing as possible. 

Bucky sits just one seat down, in the very last seat in the row. “Hey, Tony? This is Sam.” Tony turns his head to the side to look at Sam. 

Sam smiles, friendly and cheerful. “Hey, little man. Nat said you're hurt. Mind if I take a look, see if I can help you out some?” Bucky approves of how loose and relaxed he keeps his posture. 

Tony sits up a little, pulling away from Bucky's chest. He frowns a little. “You're not a doctor.”

“Nope,” Sam says, acknowledging that easily. “But I used to be in the Air Force. I worked at the VA, too. I have lots of experience with patching people up until they can get to a real doctor.” He pauses, then adds, “We have some really great doctors at the compound where we live, you know? One of the doctors I know is a magic doctor.”

“Magic isn't real,” Tony says, scrunching his nose up in disbelief. 

“Hand to God,” Sam says, holding up one hand. “I've seen some real crazy stuff. You know Thor, from all the legends? He's real, too. Met him myself.” 

“No way,” Tony snorts. He crosses his arms over his chest, visibly winces, then lowers them to fiddle with Bucky's tac vest. “I'm a kid, but I'm not stupid.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, a horrified expression crosses his face. 

“You definitely aren't stupid,” Sam agrees with a nod, pretending not to notice Tony's reaction. “But I can show you some videos and pictures later and prove it. How's that sound?” He takes his phone out of his pocket, pokes at it for a moment, then holds it up. There's a game ready and waiting, some kind of free-for-all fighting game that Peter talked Sam into playing with him. “How about you get that shirt off so I can look over whatever injuries you have, and I'll let you play this game, huh?”

“Okay,” Tony says, his curiosity over the game, and likely the phone, stronger than his need to hide. Bucky is overly aware of everyone other than Clint, who is flying the ‘jet, watching them with rapt attention. Tony doesn't seem to notice them at least. Tony grabs the hem of his shirt and lifts it, and Bucky immediately notices bruising and burns on what little bit of skin he can see. Tony whimpers softly when he can't lift his arms very high, so Bucky gently helps to ease the shirt over his head. 

Sam surrenders the phone immediately, and it works as an instant distraction as Tony begins to poke at the screen. Bucky seethes in silent horror at the way Tony has been treated. There are what look like electrical burns from a shock stick dotting his olive skin, along with nasty bruises and several bad cuts that are spattered with dried blood. His ribs are showing through his skin, and he looks paler and smaller somehow without the shirt. 

Sam takes a slow, steady breath, then opens the first aid kit at his feet. He gently begins to clean the cuts first, wiping away old blood. Tony hisses at the sting from the alcohol wipes, but he doesn't try to pull away. Bucky rubs over Tony's thigh with one hand to try to settle him some and maybe silently encourage and praise him. Tony looks to be engrossed in the game, though his eyebrows are furrowed in the way Bucky was familiar with the older Tony's need to learn how everything worked. By the time Sam has finished cleaning all the cuts they can see, Tony has already closed out of the game and is playing around on the phone itself. Well, if he tears it up somehow, Sam can always just get a new one, Bucky figures.

“Tony,” Bucky asks quietly, “did the people who put you in those cuffs hurt you like this?” He needs the confirmation.

Tony shrugs. “Yeah.” He frowns at whatever he's doing to the phone. “What's Google?”

“A search engine,” Sam responds instantly. He seems to realize the question, then shakes his head. “Please don't search for anything, kid.” He sounds tired with the request, not angry or anything. Tony doesn't react well, though. He immediately closes out of the search engine and finds the button on the side to power off the screen. He holds out the phone to Sam with a look of shame and regret.

“Here,” Bucky says, reaching over to take the phone. He drops it in the seat beside Sam and offers up his arm for inspection. “I told you earlier you could look at it, didn't I?” Tony looks up at Bucky carefully, nods once, then runs his fingers over the arm just as gently as his older self always had. Bucky represses a shiver. The new model Tony built for him is lighter and so much more sensitive. 

“This is amazing,” Tony whispers softly. “Who made this?” He looks up at Bucky with wide, curious eyes. 

“My mechanic,” Bucky answers with a thin smile. “I'll tell him you like it.” Bucky hopes they get the older Tony back soon. This tiny version is cute as hell, and Bucky would kill anyone who threatened to hurt him, but he wants  _ his _ Tony back. Even if it's unfair to think of the man as his. He had no formal claim to him, after all. Only hoped and wished and dreamed of a ‘one day’ at some point in a future that was never guaranteed for either of them. He swears he won't wait anymore, not once he has the older Tony back.

“I wish I could meet him,” Tony says with a soft sigh. “I'm just a dumb kid, though. No one wants dumb kids around.”

“You aren't dumb,” Bucky says as gently as he can. “My mechanic isn't around right now, is all. He'd... he'd love to meet you if he could.” Bucky hopes, anyway. The way Tony tends to attract kids and stuff them full of science and pizza has long been a source of good-natured teasing from the others, even if it puts Tony's back up. Bucky wonders how his Tony would react to meeting this young version of himself. Probably not well, if he thinks about it honestly.

Sam tenderly wraps some bandages around Tony's chest, then sits back on his heels. “All right, Tony, I've done what I can for now. You'll still need to go see the doctors when we get to the compound, though, okay?” Tony nods silently, obviously not as inclined to argue as his older self. “I'll find you a cleaner shirt to wear. It'll be big, but clean. Are you hurt anywhere else?” 

“No,” Tony mutters, curling in on himself and turning his head to look at the back of the ‘jet. He's lying, Bucky and Sam can both tell, but Sam lets it go when Bucky shakes his head at him. 

“All right,” Sam says slowly. “Clint, how long ‘til we get to the compound?” 

“About four hours,” Clint calls back. “Hey, rugrat, why don't you try to nap? It's a long and boring flight with nothing to do.” 

Sam finds a shirt in a spare gearbox, one that was probably on reserve for Bruce. No one had seen him or Thor in a couple years, though. Bucky's chest lurches when he realizes that Tony has been waiting all this time for his friend to return to him. He carefully helps Tony with the clean shirt by getting his arms through it first, then looping it over his head. 

“We have some spare blankets if you want to take a nap,” Bucky offers. Sam is already dragging down a blanket from another compartment. It looks like a hospital blanket, but it's much softer. He shakes out the blanket and drapes it around Tony's shoulders, then pulls it together at his chest like a giant cape. 

“Don't…” Tony bites down on his lip viciously, then slides backward out of Bucky's lap. Bucky steadies him, then watches as Tony crosses the narrow walk to sit on the floor. He wonders what Tony had been about to say, but he doesn't ask. Doesn’t see the point. There's a distinct wince when Tony sits, but Bucky doesn't comment on it. Sam silently offers Tony a pillow, and Tony takes it with a whisper of thanks. He puts it on the floor and flops over on his side as quickly as he can. He screws his eyes shut tightly. It takes a full minute for Tony to relax, and then he slips straight into unconsciousness. 

Bucky takes a deep breath and lets his head thunk against the wall behind the seats. Clint begins to play some soft classical music over the speakers. Natasha, Wanda, and Vision spread out a little more, but they don't get very close, either.

Wanda's magic sparks at her fingers and floats through the air to settle over Tony. Bucky watches as Tony takes a deeper breath and relaxes even more, his mouth parting slightly. The magic retreats quickly and Wanda sighs softly. “He's asleep,” she says. “I don't know when he might wake, though. He's utterly exhausted. The Extremis is still there, in his blood, but whatever magic is affecting him has...dampened it. This was a strong spell, one I'm not sure I understand.”

“We'll call Strange as soon as we get back,” Steve says with a short nod. He looks at Bucky. “Why is he so afraid of me?”

“Howard,” Bucky says with a shrug. Wanda nods unhappily. Bucky doesn't like that the nosy little witch was obviously looking more than she should have been, but he can't do anything about it. “I know you heard what he said back there. He's terrified of you because Howard used you against him the way some parents use the boogie man. It's not right and it's gonna be hard to get him to trust you, but we can't change it.”

Steve looks distressed and unhappy about it, but he nods. “Right. Seems he trusts you, at least?”

“Said he liked me best,” Bucky says with a sardonic smile. “Betting Howard had a good bit to do with that, too, in a way, but at least he isn't afraid of all of us.” Bucky stretches his legs out in front of himself. “Pretty sure any magic in front of him is bad idea.” He glances at Wanda. “HYDRA used it against him, to hurt him. He's not gonna know there's a difference for a while.”

“I wouldn't hurt him,” Wanda says, taking it as a challenge, though that wasn't how Bucky meant it. 

Vision comforts her with a hand on her shoulder. “Of course not, but he is very young. He won't understand intentions, only prior experiences. So far, his prior experiences with magic have been incredibly negative. We should endeavor to be as careful as possible around him.”

“Look, kids are tough,” Clint says, having obviously maneuvered them into airspace where the autopilot could take over for a while. “Tony will bounce back, but it's going to take some time.”

“I nominate Clint for babysitting duty,” Natasha says with a brittle smile. “He has three kids, after all. Plenty of experience.” Clint shrugs like it isn't a big deal for him. “No loud noises or sudden movements in front of him for a while. He didn't react well when I tossed a set of keys to Bucky.”

“This kid has more PTSD than half the vets I've counseled,” Sam sighs with his arms crossed over his chest. “He needs a real therapist, even if this is only temporary.”

“Speaking of which,” Vision says, “how do we explain me? Or the compound? Or FRIDAY? He did not know what Google was. I'm not certain he is familiar with current technology.”

Steve sighs. “We need to call Pepper. She and Jim are his proxies for everything still, I think. Jim...Jim might have a better idea on how to handle all this, honestly. I'll call him now.” Steve wanders up to the pilot's chair and sits in the relative privacy to call Rhodes.

“He's still hurt, too,” Natasha says quietly. She looks over at Clint. “Any suggestions? He didn't want to take off his jeans.”

Clint shrugs. “Forcing him is a bad idea. He doesn't know or trust any of us nearly enough for that sort of thing. Let the med team sort him out. They can sedate him if they have to. I... don't want to say not to worry about it, because this is HYDRA we're talking about, but at least it isn't so serious we have to worry about him dying in the next couple hours.”

“You said four,” Natasha says with a raised eyebrow, calling him on his lie. 

“Kids aren't great at telling time,” he says with an easy shrug. “If we had a tablet with a bunch of kids movies loaded on it, I'd have said to give him that. We didn't, so I stretched the time a bit. Figured he was tired, anyway, and it'll be easier for him to deal with all the new stuff if he's had at least a little rest first.”

“For future reference? Don't lie to him.” Bucky crosses his arms over his chest. “He's too smart to fall for it, and even if he pretends to believe you, it'll blow up in your face later and make him not trust you.” Clint nods his acceptance easily. “I'm gonna nap, too.” 

“And if Tony wakes up first?” Vision asks. “You are not...the gentlest person to wake.”

“Kick my foot or something,” Bucky says with a shrug. “I won't hurt the kid, not even in my sleep.” He isn't sure how he knows that for absolute certain, but he does, and he won't question it. He closes his eyes and slips into a doze nearly instantly, an old habit from when he never knew when he would get the next chance to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Bucky had left the tiny version of Tony in medical, then headed for his room in the west wing of the compound. Surely the med team could be trusted not to hurt the kid, and besides, FRIDAY was watching now. She'd keep Tony safe. Steve had told Jim about the situation, and Jim had passed along the update to FRIDAY and Pepper. There wasn't much left for Bucky to do, he figured, so why not get clean? 

He'd been gone a grand total of twenty minutes, fifteen of which he'd spent in the shower, when FRIDAY came over the speaker. He knew she didn't have cameras in his bathroom, but it still bothered him when she spoke to him when he was in there, and she knew it.

“Sergeant?” she calls, sounding uncharacteristically hesitant.

“Go ahead, FRIDAY,” he sighs, figuring there must be something important going on for her to bother him of all people. He's nearly always the last resort. Not that it bothers him, it just  _ was _ . 

“The little boss is awake and very upset. He asked for you.” Bucky sighs into the hot steam surrounding him. “Shall I dispatch Colonel Rhodes, instead?” 

“I'll get there quick as I can,” Bucky says, willing the stupid conditioner to rinse from his hair just that much faster. He likes the stuff, but times like this make it damn inconvenient. “Go ahead and send Jim, though. Maybe he'll have some luck.”

FRIDAY doesn't answer, but Bucky finishes his shower quickly either way. He's dragging on clothes over still damp skin when FRIDAY comes back over the speakers in his room. “Sergeant, please hurry. I'm afraid little boss might hurt himself at this rate.” 

Bucky huffs a silent curse, abandons the thought of shoes, but takes the time to tug on his shirt, and jogs through the compound to get to the medical suite. Several of the people that work at the compound just to keep up the day-to-day functions know to move out of the way when they see an Avenger running through the place - even as comical as it must be to see Bucky jogging around in jeans and barefoot. He takes the stairs rather than the elevator, but there isn't much to be done about running through and around the crowd of press hounding Steve for information. Bucky desperately wishes he'd spent more time talking Tony into the zipline over the big open lobby space. Maybe he can correct that when Tony is his older self again.

“Buck?” Steve asks, breaking off in the middle of a sentence when he notices Bucky jogging toward him. The path of least resistance is behind Steve, as usual. “Where's the fire?”

“It's the kid,” Bucky murmurs, hopefully quiet enough only for Steve to hear. He speeds up again as soon as he's through the mob of people in the lobby. The medical suite, naturally, is in the east wing. It only took Bucky a minute and a half to jog the entire way, but he really should come up with a better route for something like this. Direct action typically isn't his thing, though. He's too used to subterfuge. Breaking down front doors was all Steve.

When he wrenches open the door to medical, he can hear the screaming - probably worse and more blood curdling than it had been even back in the HYDRA bunker. Bucky flat-out  _ runs _ to the source. What the fuck did they do to the poor kid? He feels the anger simmering just under his skin, but he won't let it out yet. He's patient. He was a damn good sniper even before HYDRA got their hands on him, and every sniper has to be patient. It takes all of three seconds to reach the room Tony's being held in, and Bucky notes that it isn't the same room he’d left Tony in earlier. 

They've put Tony in padded cuffs. Bucky stalks into the room and rips them away from his arms as gently but as quickly as he can. No fucking wonder the kid was screaming his head off. Someone tries to say something, but Bucky ignores them, too busy wrapping the blanket around his too-thin body with his arms trapped inside. Like a burrito, he thinks, remembering once, a while ago, when Tony had done something similar for him. That was back when the cold used to seep into his bones more regularly and he could never get warm enough. Tony had wrapped him into a blanket burrito the one time, and Bucky never forgot.

“Tony,” Bucky says quietly. He finishes tucking the blanket into place and sits on the bed as he gathers the kid in his arms. He's so damn small. So damn fragile. He never thought of the older Tony that way, though he certainly was just as human until recently. “Tony, hey, look at me?” He holds Tony tight to his chest, despite Tony still struggling and screaming inside the blanket. 

Tony keeps his eyes squeezed shut, but the screams taper off into harsh, distressed crying instead. He hides his face in Bucky's shoulder, and Bucky sighs silently. He spends a moment rubbing Tony's back gently. Tony murmurs something that Bucky can't understand, so Bucky sits Tony upright. He looks somewhat goofy, wrapped in the blanket as he is, but his face is still splotchy and red from crying so hard, and Bucky will track down whoever put the kid in padded cuffs  _ later _ , but not now.

“What's up, kiddo?” Bucky asks. He uses one end of the blanket to gently wipe the tears from Tony's cheeks. “What happened?”

“H-hurts,” Tony chokes out through his tears. He leans forward, but Bucky keeps him steady, doesn't let him hide away just yet. Tony whines, a high and thready sound. 

“Listen,” Bucky says as gently as he can. “Listen, Tony, I need you to tell me what hurts right now. Okay?”

Tony whimpers and more tears spill over his cheeks, cheeks that are too thin to belong to such a young child. It reminds Bucky painfully of Steve, back when he'd first met him when he was a child himself. It reminds him of the baby sister that had died, too young and starved for nutrition when his mother was so starved she could no longer nurse. Bucky almost wishes the HYDRA agents responsible weren't dead, if only so he could have the pleasure of killing them again, slower and more painful this time. 

“All ‘a me,” Tony whimpers. “Burns.”

“It's the Extremis, we think.” Bucky folds Tony into his arms and Tony cries more or less silently into Bucky's chest while Bucky rubs his back. He gives the nurse a flat, dead stare. “We tried to sedate him, but we don't think it worked.” 

Bucky gently rolls Tony's head to the side and looks more carefully at those whiskey-colored eyes he'd liked so much in an older face. The pupils are tiny pinpricks, nearly swallowed by the brown. Bucky rests his flesh hand on Tony's head for a moment, holding him close and taking a moment to breathe slowly and evenly. Losing his temper in front of Tony has always been something he was unwilling to do, but now doubly so. 

“They worked,” Bucky says, voice low and gravely. “Where's Jim? Did he approve this?” The nurse presses his lips in a thin line and shakes his head. “Then why the fuck would you try to drug the poor kid out of his damn mind?” His voice is even and neutral, despite the vicious look he's sending the nurse and the harsh words. 

“He was out when you brought him,” the nurse explains, beginning slowly, as if Bucky would have trouble following. “We proceeded with a standard physical examination. There were some...concerning bruises and lacerations. Dr. Sheffield wanted to do a more thorough exam, but then he woke up and began trying to fight us. He was hurting himself. We didn't know how else to calm him down.”

“Get Jim,” Bucky says flatly. “Make sure he talks to that doctor first, then bring him here.” Jim, at least, should be told about what's going on. Bucky isn't sure he'll be privy to that information, but he doesn't think he needs to be. “I'm staying with the kid.” 

The nurse nods and leaves the room as quickly as he can. Bucky supposes he should give the man points for sticking around as long as he did, but he isn't feeling particularly charitable right now. Instead, he settles on the bed as comfortably as he can and just holds Tony, doesn't try to make him calm down or shut him up. That would be beyond cruel. 

“I know you're hurting,” Bucky says with as much gentleness as he can project, “so you cry as much as you need to, okay? It's all right.” He won't make any promises, can't, but he can at least let the poor kid cry. Tony sniffs hard just a moment later, and the tears seem to stop flowing quite so heavily. He's limp in Bucky's arms. 

It doesn't take long for Jim to arrive. He looks drawn and a little pale, which is strange. Bucky's never seen the man at anything less than his best. Right now, though, it looks like Jim would rather be anywhere other than in that room with Bucky and the child version of his best friend. Bucky raises an eyebrow in question. Tony seems to have cried himself to sleep, judging from the slow, even breaths, but he can't see Tony's face, either. 

“Hey,” Jim says quietly. “He out?”

“Think so,” Bucky answers. He shifts slightly, but Tony doesn't stir. “They drugged him. Not sure with what, though.” Jim nods and ambles into the room before collapsing heavily into a chair. “I know I ain't got no right to Tony's medical information -”

Jim holds up a hand for silence, and Bucky cuts himself off. “There are about four people I trust with Tony in this state. One of which is a sentient AI, the other is Pepper, and she's on her way. And I include myself in that total. Wanna know who else gets my very fragile trust right now?” Bucky doesn't answer. “You. Nat and Steve had a few things to say during the debrief. Namely, how you were the one who got Tony to calm down and that he trusts you right now. That says a lot in my book. I never knew Tony at this age. I didn't meet him until he was already a hellion. Fourteen and thought he was ready to take on the whole damn world. But I've picked up on a lot, over the years. One of those things is that Tony trusted people even less as a kid than he does as an adult. It took him a long damn time to unlearn all the shit Howard put in his head.” 

“I'd kill him again,” Bucky says softly. He's said it to Tony, once, that he was glad he killed Howard. The truth had come out once he started remembering everything. There was a lot of bad blood between Tony and Steve when Tony found out that Steve was keeping that information from Tony, but Tony never once blamed Bucky for any of it. Bucky had been, and still is, humbled by that all-encompassing forgiveness. 

Admitting, that one time, that he was glad he'd killed Howard, had come during a bad night of nightmares for the both of them, when they'd sought comfort in one another. No one else had been around, and Tony told Bucky about the nightmare. An old one, he'd claimed, where Howard, not Stane, was the one who took the arc reactor from his chest and smashed it into bits. Tony had laughed, a horrible, brittle, humorless chuckle, and looked at Bucky as he admitted that Howard would have done it, too, would have been disgusted with the way Tony had perverted his original design to keep his sorry ass alive. Bucky had confessed, and Tony had told him, so simply, “I'm glad you killed him.” Tony's mom was a little different, but Bucky had learned that she'd had more of a benign neglect sort of hand in his upbringing. 

“That's valid,” Jim says with a loose shrug. Bucky almost smiles at the lingo he's picked up from Peter, but it's not quite there. Jim sighs and leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “So. Pepper will be here tonight, most likely. Late. Maybe tomorrow morning if she can't get away from SI. I’ll help as much as Tony allows. But right now, he trusts you, and I'm not willing to break that trust. Are you okay with taking care of him until we can get him back to the way he's supposed to be?”

Bucky nods once. “Haven't been around kids since the forties, but I doubt much has changed. Used to take care of Steve and my sister all the time.” He rubs his hand over Tony's back, maybe just a little bit possessively. “After the way the idiots treated him here, I'm not real sure I wanna let him outta my sight.”

“Good,” Jim says. “Now for the hard part.” He scrubs his hands over his face. “I spoke to Dr. Sheffield. She said the physical exam didn't go well.” Bucky nods. The nurse had said as much. “She's pretty sure those bastards sexually assaulted him.”

Bucky goes cold and very, very still. His arms tighten around the Tony-burrito in his arms, but he's careful not to tighten them too much. He feels hatred and anger corse through him with a blinding sort of determination. Again, he wishes they weren't all dead. He'd torture them to death. It wasn't a skill he used often, but he'd had his fair share of practice at his handler's instruction. He wouldn't dare leave Tony, though, and that's the only thing keeping him so very, very still. 

“No one else knows. No one else  _ gets _ to know. You need to know because you're going to be taking care of him.” Jim looks aged, just now. Older and more worn than Bucky has ever seen before. “The rest of the team doesn't need to know.” Bucky nods. No, they really don't. “I'm going to call in Dr. Cho. She's not a pediatrician, but considering the Extremis is still in play, we can't be too careful. She'll know who to consult. Tony...the older Tony…trusts her.”

“I don't want him here,” Bucky says quietly. “They had him in restraints.” 

Jim’s face flashes with rage and he jerks his head around to look at the closed door. “Right. We'll head to Tony's suite, then. Strage can probably help us out with whatever we need. I'll get him caught up. He was a damn good neurosurgeon before the shit with his hands happened. He'll have the training, if nothing else.” 

“What about FRIDAY?” Bucky asks. “Should we introduce her, or have her on mute?”

“Ah, hell,” Jim sighs. “Might as well introduce her. He'll figure it out anyway. At least then she can help us if we aren't there.”

Bucky nods and gathers Tony in his arms more securely, holding him to his chest. He stands slowly, careful not to wake the kid, and he and Rhodey take a long, meandering path through the compound to get to Tony's suite of rooms. They pass Natasha and Clint on the way, but someone must have told Steve to scram, because he's nowhere in sight. Bucky hopes they can change that, but he won't push the issue yet. He doesn't relax until the door to Tony's suite is shut behind him, though he's noticed that Nat and Clint have followed them inside. 

Natasha begins to walk the room, grabbing the weapons that have been stashed around the place at all intervals. Bucky never knew Tony had so many. He'd never spent any time in this room, though. He sits on the couch in front of the wide TV with Tony still conked out in his arms. He's just glad Tony's still resting. Maybe the Extremis will kick in and heal some of the damage. He can only hope.

“I brought some stuff,” Clint says, holding up a black gear bag. “Cooper had some stuff here from his last visit. Nate, too, but I figure he's too little, and a kid like Tony wouldn't be interested.” He sets the bag on a chair and unzips it. “Couple of lego sets Coop didn't get around to, some clothes, some movies, a Rubix cube, and a deck of Uno cards. Figured Tony probably has a set of regular playing cards in the game room, and I bet there's some board games down there, too. We could take him down there once he's feeling a bit better.”

“Thanks, man,” Jim says. He still looks tired. Natasha and Clint both notice, but they don't say anything. “Hey, FRI? When you get a chance, scan the little dude and figure out his size. Order a few things for him to wear. Not too much. Just some basics. Jeans and shirts, a jacket. Shoes, underwear, socks.” 

“Of course, Colonel.” FRIDAY keeps her volume low. “I'll go ahead and initiate boss’ Who the Hell is Bucky protocol. Little boss will have standard, level one access, same as the basic staff. Any commands or orders will need approval from someone with level four access or higher.”

“Wait, who has higher access than level three?” Clint asks curiously. “I thought we all had the same permissions.”

“I'm level five, same as Tony,” Jim says. “Pepper is level four. She would be level five, but there are things that can get...screwy at level five. Steve gets temporary level four permissions for this sort of scenario.”

Bucky lifts his chin. “Tony gave me level four,” he says. Jim raises his eyebrows at Bucky. 

“Currently, Colonel Rhodes, Miss Potts, Sergeant Barnes, and Captain Rogers all have the ability to confirm commands and orders for the little boss. Big boss updated the Sergeant's codes approximately eighty-two days ago.” FRIDAY sounds smug, to Bucky's ears, though he can't think of why. He hadn't known the others didn't have level four access to her. He needs to remember to ask Tony about that when he's himself again. Maybe FRIDAY will know…

For now, Bucky is tired. There's a bone-deep sort of exhaustion that washes over him. Tony is back with them, and while not quite himself yet, he's still  _ safe _ . Bucky will make sure he's safe. He won't let anyone hurt Tony. 

But now that the adrenaline has worn off considerably, his other senses are returning. Sight and sound are the two he relies on the most, so he closes his eyes as his head falls back to rest against the top of the back of the couch. He filters out the voices around him, pushing them to fade into background noise. If he needs to listen, someone will call his name. He doesn't care what they have to say right now. Tony is warm against his chest - almost feverish. It might be Extremis, but it might not be, considering whatever magic they hit Tony with seems to have affected the Extremis as well. He’ll need to mention it to whichever doctor gets here first. But along with noticing that Tony is too warm, Bucky also notices that Tony….well. The kid stinks.

In the three weeks HYDRA had Tony, Bucky isn't sure they ever did more for him than dump some water over him occasionally. Bucky shivers slightly when he remembers the way they'd hosed him down so many times. The water would freeze to ice almost instantly, and he would be so cold he might as well have been in cryo. So. A bath is probably in order. He remembers, though. Not that he forgot. But he remembers what HYDRA did to Tony while they had him. Hopefully Bucky can show Tony how everything works, introduce him to FRIDAY, and then wait outside. 

To get Tony to wake as if it were natural, he changes the pattern he's rubbing Tony's back from too gentle and meandering to deliberate and just a little firmer. He taps a random pattern along Tony's spine. The kid shifts a little and gumbles, turns his head to the other side. Bucky doesn't quite smile, but it's close. He taps again along Tony's spine, then pauses to, more or less, dance his fingers along Tony's back. Tony wriggles in his hold, a tiny giggle escaping. 

Before Bucky can do anything else, like deliberately tickle Tony just a little more, he hears someone at the door. Typically, FRIDAY will give him a warning if he's this relaxed. He doesn't exactly have a great track record with people coming into his spaces when he's like this. He doesn't react well this time, either. As the person on the other side of the door turns the knob, Bucky clutches Tony tight to his chest and turns to face the threat. His hand finds the gun he can't ever seem to leave behind, and he has it out and aimed directly at the young man's chest before he gets the door entirely open. 


	3. Chapter 3

The relaxed feeling from earlier has vanished. He's very dimly aware that the kid is awake and clinging to his shirt. He tries to hold onto that sensation. If he needs to fight, he will need to cover the child. The option of putting him down doesn't cross his mind. His finger is curled around the trigger, ready to shoot, ready to kill. 

“You should go,” Natasha says, her voice flat enough to resemble something calming. 

“I - I have an appointment with Mr. Stark,” the man says, his eyes wide as they dart around the room to take in all the people. He doesn't seem to pay much attention to Bucky, but that's fine. He doesn't like when people focus on him, anyway. 

“Not today,” Jim says in his commanding voice. His is better than the Captain's, Bucky thinks. Of course, he's also led more men for far longer. “Leave now.” 

The young man nods, not a bit frightened, and he closes the door behind himself as he leaves. Jim doesn't relax. He looks at Natasha, who simply nods and slips out of the room after the man. Clint goes with her, muttering something Bucky can't quite understand. With only Jim and Bucky and the child left in the room, Bucky relaxes marginally. He removes his finger from the trigger and rests it on the trigger guard instead. He doesn't put away the gun just yet.

“FRIDAY?” Jim asks.

“He...he had an access pass,” she says slowly, uncertainty. She's still young, as Tony says so often. She makes mistakes her predecessor didn't. Well, JARVIS  _ had _ , the Avengers simply never saw them. And FRIDAY is smaller than JARVIS, too. Tony had to deal with the team's paranoia after ULTRON, and he couldn't give her as much space and freedom as she deserved. “He has been at the compound for approximately ninety-five hours, apparently assuming the identity of one Mr. Franklin Dyer.” A small hologram appears along the wall, with pictures of the men side-by-side. They could be brothers. “Their similarities and lack of unusual behavior or deviation from a normal schedule…”

“It's okay,” Jim says gently. He sounds tired, though. “Keep an eye on him, though. I know Nat's after him, but don't lose him. Go ahead and check everyone's facial recognition to their security clearances. We need to be sure that's our only mole. Shut down access to the west wing to anyone other than the senior Avengers. Others are allowed only with an escort.” He looks hard at Tony and Bucky. “Does that protocol of Tony's involve cancelling his meetings and appointments?”

“Yes, Colonel Rhodes,” FRIDAY answers. “Miss Romanov has just located the target. She is taking him to one of the interview rooms.” It was a nice way of saying Nat was going to interrogate the man. “Agent Barton has made himself comfortable in a concealed sniper's nest over the main lobby. He says he will assist me with finding anyone else who doesn't belong here. I have informed the Captain of the situation, and he's going to speak with Miss Hill. He suggests that perhaps you should relocate Little Boss to a different room. Everyone will expect him to be in his own suite.”

“I was going to suggest it myself,” Jim says with a nod. He looks over at Bucky. “If he isn't in his rooms, they'll go to mine and Rogers’ next.”

“Mine,” Bucky says with a nod, understanding what Jim is thinking. “No one will go there, and it is more easily defensible.” Bucky had chosen those rooms specifically for that reason. Jim nods once and grabs the bag Clint had brought. “Get Sam. For backup.”

“He is on his way, Sergeant.” FRIDAY's quick response is appreciated. 

Bucky takes a few deeper breaths, trying to clear his head a little. It's too easy to slip into the mindset HYDRA trained into him. His serum is different from Steve's. He can only have so many senses hyped up at once. Vision and hearing are the top priorities, always sacrificing feeling and taste, diminishing smell, though his sense of smell has been enough to save his life on more than one occasion. It takes several long seconds to come back to himself. 

When he does, the first thing he smells is the acrid tang of urine. Then he feels the warm, wet spot high on his right side where he's holding Tony. His arms tighten around him for a moment as he sucks in a sharp breath. He has to think quickly and carefully about what to say. He can't risk upsetting Tony.

But Tony is already crying again. There's no sound to his sobs, just soft, choking breaths. Then he hears the whispers. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry.”

“Shh,” he sighs back, slotting his gun into the holster on his thigh. He brings his arm up to rub at Tony's back again. “Hey, Tony, it's okay. It's okay. Just breathe, okay? Big breath.” To his surprise, Tony obeys. He sucks in a huge, deep breath, then expels it in a rush. “Good job, buddy. Great. Do another one of those.” Tony does, and it's a little smoother this time. Jim is watching them with a concerned, wary expression. Bucky mouths to Jim, ‘he peed,’ and resignation passes over his features before he nods. “Come on, bud, let's go to a different room, okay? Then we can get you cleaned up and into some different clothes. Sound good?” 

“I'm sorry,” Tony whispers again.

“You don't got nothin’ t’ be sorry for,” Bucky tells him as gently as he can. “I swear.” There's a knock on the door, then, and Tony whimpers softly as he tenses in Bucky's arms. 

“It's Mr. Wilson,” FRIDAY announces for them. “I've cleared the path to Sergeant Barnes’ room for you. All routes are locked and sealed against a level five override code.”

“Great job, FRIDAY,” Jim says. Bucky wonders where Jim learned to be so encouraging, feels pretty certain it has a lot to do with the boy in his arms. He opens the door to find Sam's wary and resigned face. They don't typically face threats in their home. “Let's head out. Won't take long.”

Bucky follows Jim and gives Sam his back. It's not comfortable, but he keeps his left arm free to grab the gun at his thigh or the trench knife at his hip. It's not as slender a blade as he prefers, but it had been the first one his hands touched earlier when dressing. 

“Who’s the lady?” Tony asks quietly as they're walking down the empty halls. Bucky's room is two floors up, on the fourth floor. It's halfway down the hall, situated between two other empty suites. Natasha's room is across the hall from his, one door down, and Clint’s is the opposite direction, with one empty suite between their rooms. They're the only ones on that floor, and it was a bit of an inside joke that they called it the Assassin's Guild. Somehow, the kitchen wound up with a sign over the entrance that read “Dark Brotherhood.” Bucky's pretty sure that's a video game reference, but he thought it was amusing even without understanding the context. Shortly after, Clint’s door wound up with a fancy name plate that read Cicero. Natasha's door read “Night Mother,” and Bucky's read “Sithis.” It was the third change like it since arriving at the compound, so Bucky just rolled with it. He wonders now if maybe they should have sent someone up to get rid of all the morbid shit beforehand.

“That's FRIDAY,” Bucky answers. “She's an AI. Artificial Intelligence. She helps run this whole place and helps keep us safe.”

“But you're superheros,” Tony says, lifting his head at last to look at Bucky. 

Bucky falls back on the argument Tony himself used back when Bucky had so much trouble relaxing and sleeping. “Even people like us have to sleep sometimes. FRIDAY watches out for us. She's part of our team.” He isn't entirely positive, but he thinks Jim might be smiling. “If you ever need anything, if you're scared, or if you just have a question, ask FRIDAY. She'll help you.”

“She…” Tony lowers his voice to a barely-audible level. “She won't tell on me?”

Bucky considers that for a moment before answering. “She'll tell us if you're hurt or scared or if she needs one of us to do something she can't, but she has some pretty strict privacy stuff that won't let her tell anyone what you do. Some of that is different for you because you're so young, but she won't tattle.” 

Tony nods, apparently satisfied with that answer. “So she's like a computer?” This question is louder, loud enough for the others to hear.

“I am, little boss,” FRIDAY answers. “I learn things, same as you.”

“That's cool,” Tony says quietly. He lays his head against Bucky's shoulder again when they enter the stairwell. Bucky hates elevators, the entire team knows this. He uses them when he has to, but confined spaces in general make him uncomfortable. He's grateful to Jim for not forcing him into that situation right now. 

The rest of the walk is silent. Bucky feels like he can breathe a little easier once they make it to his floor, but he doesn't relax much until the door shuts behind them and automatically locks to prevent anyone else from entering the room. He's not embarrassed about the stockpile of weapons he keeps in his living area, but they'll definitely need to be moved now. Perhaps he can just put them in high places. He won't get rid of them.

“Here,” Jim says, offering the duffle to Bucky. “Sam and I will get some of this moved where little man here can't get to it, and then we'll take over your office to chat with FRIDAY and the others.” Bucky takes the bag and loops the strap over his shoulder. “Hey, Tones?” Jim steps to the side so Tony can see him easier. He smiles when Tony lifts his head. “My name is Jim Rhodes. I'm a friend of Bucky's. Me and Sam here are gonna help keep you safe, make sure you have everything you need, okay? Bucky's gonna help get you cleaned up, and then we'll talk some, but for now, is there anything you can think of that you want?”

“Food?” Tony asks with a small, hopeful voice. 

“Sure thing,” Jim says with an easy nod. “I'll grab something for you and head back in here with it, okay? Maybe we can sit down and watch a movie while you eat. Sound good?”

Tony's eyes go a little wide at that, but he doesn't say anything, he only nods. Bucky gives Jim a short nod and walks through the living area to the narrow hall just beyond. There's a room across from his bedroom that was supposed to be an “office,” which he's bastardized and turned into a sort of weapons cache plus library plus multi-room. They'll probably need to just keep Tony out of that room all together. He opens his bedroom door and crosses the wide floor, with the bed firmly against the far wall and all the windows on permanent black-out, and he walks into the bathroom. 

He takes a moment to set Tony on the bathroom counter, still bundled in the blanket, and he leaves the duffle beside him. He gathers up his tac gear and stuffs it into the hamper in the room, not bothering to empty all the pockets just now. He'll do that later. Once the floor is clear, he turns to look at Tony. 

“Bath or shower?” 

Tony listlessly picks at the edge of the blanket for a moment, not answering. “Bath,” Tony finally answers in a quiet voice. Bucky simply nods and turns to the big jacuzzi tub in the corner. He turns on the faucet and adjusts the temperature to something less scalding than he would usually prefer and something closer to what he thinks will be okay for Tony. He'll have Tony check to make sure it isn't too hot before he gets in. He stoppers the tub and turns around to face Tony again. 

“We don't have much kid stuff here,” he says honestly. “We'll get some for you later. For now, you want me to stay and help, or you want me to leave you alone?” He thinks it's probably best to leave the decision up to Tony. He won't leave, of course, he'll just sit in the bedroom while he waits for Tony to finish. But the kid is hurt, so he needs to make sure he's close in case anything happens. 

“‘m hurt,” Tony says with a soft sniff. “Can't...can't do anything.” He seems so bitterly angry about that. Bucky knows who to blame, at least partly, and for once he wishes he could do that magic shit, just to bring Howard back so he could punch him. A lot. With his left hand. 

“All of us need help sometimes,” Bucky says honestly. “I needed a lot of help not too long ago. I couldn't do much of anything on my own. I was scared.” It's easier to admit that to this little version of Tony now that he's worked through those problems in therapy and with the older Tony.  _ His  _ Tony. His Tony had helped him so much, back then, just by showing him how to get FRIDAY to black out the windows and make the door lock automatically and refuse anyone else entry unless he specifically allowed it, barring emergencies. There were other things, too, but those had been the first steps.

“You were scared?” Tony asks dubiously. “But...you're Bucky.”

He nods. “Yeah, I was scared. All the time. Of everything and everyone. Terrified out of my mind, most days. Took a long time to get to where I could do things again.” He takes a breath and makes a decision. “HYDRA had me, too. Those same bad people that hurt you, hurt me.” He can't leave it there, but it's hard to get more words out. He takes a deep breath and looks over at the rising waterline in the tub. “They did a lot of bad things. Steve and...my mechanic. They helped get me away from them. Helped get me better. The rest of the team, too.” He looks at Tony, whose big brown eyes are wider than ever. “Steve won't hurt you, Tony. I promise. I know you don't believe me right now, and that's okay. It is. You don't have to see him. But he's good, and your dad was lying when he said he'd get Cap to get you. Steve doesn't hurt people who don't deserve it.”

Tony looks at the floor and pulls the blanket tight around his little shoulders. “I deserve it.” His whisper is almost covered by the sound of the water splashing in the tub, but Bucky catches it. “I did bad stuff.”

Bucky approaches him slowly, and when Tony doesn't react negatively, he wraps his arms around the kid in a warm hug. “You don't deserve it, kiddo. Promise.” He knows that won't mean much, but he can't do anything about it right now. He pulls back a little and looks at Tony. “Want me to help you with your bath? Or do you want someone else?”

“You,” Tony whispers. “Please.”

Bucky nods and carefully peals the blanket away from Tony. He tosses it over beside the hamper rather than inside it for now, then helps Tony out of the too-large tee shirt they'd put on him. He stops when he gets to Tony's jeans and lifts Tony so he can stand on the floor. Tony does his jeans himself, unbuttoning and unzipping them, then shoving them down to his ankles and stepping out of them. 

“Come test the water, make sure it isn't too hot.” Tony walks over to the tub and shoves his hand in the water. He looks at Bucky and nods. “It's okay?” Tony nods again. “All right. I'll help you get in.” He lifts Tony easily, trying to mind the bruises and scrapes - the med team had taken away the bandages Sam had done. At least, Bucky thinks uncharitably, they'd dressed him again. Tony grips his arms with both hands as he sits, his face scrunching in pain. Bucky aches for him, wants to kill for him.

“All right, just sit tight for a sec,” Bucky says as he stands. “I'll get soap and stuff.” He ducks into his shower and grabs the soap and shampoo, forgoes the conditioner, and puts both bottles on the edge of the tub. He turns to the sink and grabs a towel and washcloth, then he spots the basket of shit Natasha had given him at Christmas last year.

There was another bit of joke between himself, Clint, and Natasha that he never relaxed enough. She'd given him a big basket of spa things - face masks and bath bombs and fancy soaps and lotions - and Clint had given him the softest robe on the planet with stupid Iron Man slippers. At least the robe was black. He uses the robe, but he'd shoved the slippers in his closet and promptly forgot about them. He'd at least tried some of the stuff in Natasha's basket, and while he wasn't exactly a fan, he did keep ordering the chocolate lotion. It was something special, she'd said, for his scars. He had no clue what was in it, but the lotion made the scars around his arm (and elsewhere) less sensitive, and, well. Tony really seemed to like that he smelled like chocolate all the time. 

He figures, though, that Tony might like one of the bath bombs. He grabs a dark blue one from the basket and unwraps it before walking over with the washcloth as well. He kneels on the floor beside the tub and holds up the bath bomb.

“This is neat. Watch what it does in the water.” He smiles, just a little, and drops it. There's a soft splash, then it bobs back up to the top and begins to fizz and turn the water around it the same rich, dark blue. Tony's eyes go wide again, and he swishes his hand through the color to spread it around. He grabs the bath bomb and his eyes crinkle a little at the feeling of it dissolving in his hand before it puts it back in the water. 

“That's awesome,” Tony says softly. Bucky reaches over and cuts off the water before the tub gets too full. “It smells like blueberries!”

Bucky nods as he soaks the washcloth in the water and stretches to grab the cup he’d left on the back corner for the few times he does sit in the tub. It's nice to use the tub after particularly grueling missions, when even he is sore and his shoulder aches. Mostly, he uses it during the winter when he feels like he can't get warm enough. He very nearly boils himself alive those times.

“Tilt your head back,” he says gently, putting his finger under Tony's chin. The memories he has of who he was and what he did before the ice, before HYDRA, are dim and less clear than after, but he remembers some of this. He remembers giving Becca her baths when he was still covered in grime from working down at the docks, when Ma and Pa were too tired to do it themselves. He'd loved bath time with Becca. After, he'd always take the time to braid her hair and then tuck her into bed with a story. He didn't get to spend much time with her, so he'd cherished those moments. Then he'd been drafted.

He shakes himself free of the old memories and carefully pours water over Tony's hair several times. He scrubs in the shampoo and teases Tony lightly as he twists it up into funny shapes that Tony can sort of see in the high-shine from the tap. He covers Tony's eyes with his hand as he rinses the shampoo away, then shampoos it again when it still seems a little dirty. The second time does the trick. Tony yawns loudly as Bucky soaps up the washcloth, but Bucky keeps his movements slow and gentle as he bathes Tony, has Tony stand so he can reach all of him. He tries not to stare at the vicious bruises and burns and cuts, but it's hard. 

Finally, he finishes. He has Tony sit in the warm water for a little bit while he digs through the duffel for clothes. He steps out to his room and tosses them on his bed, then goes back for Tony with the towel. Tony is sleepy but quiet and not cranky like Becca used to get. He lets the tub drain as he dries Tony off in the bathroom, then wraps the towel around him and holds Tony's hand as he leads him into his bedroom. Tony climbs up on the bed beside the pile of clothes and simply lifts his arms for Bucky to dress him.

“Cheeky,” Bucky teases lightly, smiling so Tony will know it for a joke.

“Ana always gave me my baths,” Tony says with another sleepy yawn. “Then she dressed me. Said I could do it myself when I got too big for her to do it.” 

“Fair enough,” Bucky says. He doesn't know who Ana is, but she must have been a nanny or something. He's gentle as he gets the tee shirt over Tony's head - not unironically, Bucky guesses, it's an Iron Man shirt - and then he tugs the little boxer briefs up his legs followed by the single pair of pajama pants he'd found in the bag. The pants are noticeably too big, but Bucky ties the string tighter around his waist, then rolls up the cuffs so Tony won't trip. 

“‘m hungry,” Tony says, almost whines. 

“Pretty sure they've got something for you out there,” Bucky says. “I need to shower and change, too. Want me to -”

“Please don't leave,” Tony suddenly begs. “Please. I'll be good.”

Bucky crouches in front of Tony. “You have been great, Tony. You've been perfect. But if you want me to go with you, that's okay. It's fine. You just have to ask, okay? Give me just a couple minutes. Won't take long.” Tony nods. “Here, lay down and get comfy while you wait, okay?” He tugs the blankets back, and Tony crawls up the bed a little to flop on his side on Bucky's pillow. Bucky covers him with the blanket and rubs his shoulder. “Won’t take long.” 

Tony nods, so Bucky walks back to the bathroom. He strips out of his clothes and grabs his shampoo and soap before stepping into the shower. One of the best parts about living at the compound is instant hot water. He showers as quickly as he can. There's no sense in washing his hair again, so he leaves it tied up. As soon as he's finished he dries off, then wraps the towel around his waist. Tony is still awake in his bed, but barely. Bucky grabs some boxers from a drawer, then walks into his closet for jeans and a shirt. His Tony had always seemed to stare just a little whenever he wore the henleys he liked, so they'd become somewhat of a staple in his limited wardrobe. He tugs a dark gray one over his head, then walks back to the bathroom for his knife and gun. He takes a moment to switch knives, choosing a thinner blade he can manipulate easier, the shuts away most of the weapons in his room in one of the dresser drawers.

Tony is sitting up when Bucky turns back to him. “That's a SIG,” Tony says, pointing to Bucky's gun. “But I don't recognize it.”

“P227,” Bucky says, his eyebrows lifting. “How…?”

Tony rolls his eyes dramatically. “Dad  _ makes _ guns, duh. ‘course I hafta know ‘em.” 

“Fair,” Bucky says with a nod. “So you know gun safety too, right?” 

“Yep,” Tony says with a nod. “Aunt Peggy taught me. She takes me to the range sometimes, too, but I only get the little guns ‘cause the others have too much recoil and I'd get hurt.”

“You're somethin’ else, kiddo,” Bucky says with a wry smile. “Come on. We'll get somethin’ to eat and watch a movie, okay?” 

Tony tilts his head to the side. “We don't hafta eat at the table?”

“Nope,” Bucky says easily. He tugs the blankets away and helps Tony climb out of the bed, then immediately remakes the bed. It's one of the habits the army beat into him, one he never really lost despite having nothing resembling a bed while he was with HYDRA. The best he'd had was when he'd been out of cryo for four years to teach the girls in the Red Room, and that had been a ratty cot with a thin blanket. No pillow. He'd still done what he could to make it to perfection each day. He hasn't bothered to attempt to break the habit, figured his Ma had tried hard enough when he was a kid to make him learn it, might as well keep it now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i will not apologize for my unrepentant Skyrim references


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jsyk, i wanna post all the chapters by new years day. feels like a good way to start out twenty-bi-teen

He takes Tony's small hand in his and leads him out to the living area. Jim is there, in the armchair Bucky never uses. On the table, there's a bowl of macaroni and cheese and a plate with chicken nuggets and a ramekin of ketchup. Bucky despises the smell of ketchup, but he doesn't say a word as he leads Tony to the couch. He sits beside Tony and helps him with the bowl and plate.

“Hey, Tony, you like  _ Star Wars _ ?” Jim asks, too casually. 

“ _ Star Trek _ ,” Tony says, hurrying to swallow a mouthful of nugget. Bucky notices that Tony hasn't touched the ketchup. “What's  _ Star Wars _ ?” 

“It's a movie series,” Jim answers, his eyes crinkled at the edges. “Maybe we'll watch it later, huh?” Tony shrugs. “FRIDAY, how about some  _ Star Trek _ for Tony here?” 

“O’ course.” The TV flickers on and the opening of an episode of  _ Star Trek _ begins. 

“Hey, kiddo, how old are you?” Bucky asks, leaning down a bit. 

“Five and a half,” Tony answers, half distracted by the show, his eyes glued to the screen. 

“Lunch taste okay?” Jim asks casually. Tony nods as he shoves a spoonful of mac and cheese in his mouth. He nuggets have vanished. Bucky puts the plate on the table. 

“We're gonna head into the other room for a bit, okay?” Bucky says to Tony. “If you need one of us, just shout or ask FRIDAY. The door is locked, and no one can come inside unless I give them permission, okay?” Tony frowns at him. He looks like he wants to beg for Bucky to stay again, but he keeps his mouth closed and nods before turning his attention back to the TV. Bucky rubs Tony's back gently for encouragement, then he stands and looks to Jim, who stands as well.

They head into the office, and Bucky shuts the door part of the way but not entirely. “Learn anything yet?”

“The guy who tried to get into Tony's room earlier was a HYDRA plant,” Jim says, crossing his arms and scowling. “We are still working out exactly how long he's been here, and where the actual Franklin Dyer is, but Natasha still has the mole on ice. She's breaking him down pretty quick, but we don't have the information we need yet.”

Bucky nods, though he isn’t any happier about the situation. “So, for now, we just keep Tony here? That’s not going to work out for long. He’s a kid. He’ll need to burn off some energy at some point.” Bucky doesn’t mention, yet, just how tired Tony had been during the bath and right after. He doubts that sort of exhaustion will last once Tony gets some quality rest for several hours, and more decent food besides. Jim nods unhappily. He knows, too, apparently. 

“Sam will be back soon, but he went to talk to Cap and Clint in person,” Jim says. He scrubs one hand over his head. “Cap’s not happy. He doesn’t understand how this could have happened. Clint and FRIDAY have been going through all the people in the building, and it looks like at least four others are suspicious, but we don’t know if they’re a part of this or not. Rogers is rounding them up and getting them into separate rooms. I’ve already called Strange and Cho. Strange will be here in the morning, says he has some kind of inter-dimensional thing to deal with right now. Cho will be a few more days, she says. She’s got a thing, too, I guess, and then she’ll be on the first flight out.”

“So what do we do about his needs until then?” Bucky asks. “Fuck knows what all HYDRA actually did to him, and we won’t know how to help until we know what’s wrong.”

Jim frowns hard. “We could ask, but I don’t want to do that to him.” Bucky shakes his head. That’s the absolute last thing he wants to put Tony through - not with them, anyway. They aren’t doctors, and any information they learn won’t do any immediate good anyway. “For now, I say we just keep him fed and make sure he sleeps, keep him entertained if he gets bored. Shouldn’t be too hard, right? You seem to be pretty damn good at the whole kid thing.”

“I had a baby sister,” Bucky says with an uncomfortable shrug. He feels like he’s suddenly been tossed under a microscope. “Plus, ya know, helpin’ take care of Steve when he was sick. I got a lot of practice.”

“Well, it’s gonna come in handy now,” Jim sighs. “Tony say anything to you while you were in there?”

Bucky shakes his head. “Not much, really. I tried to tell him Steve wouldn’t hurt him, but apparently Howard used Captain America against him. He’s pretty bitter about not being able to move much. I’m pretty sure it’s his shoulder more than his ribs. We’ll need to get Strange or Cho to take a look at it.” Jim nods. “Oh, and Tony recognized my piece.”

“Your what, now?” Jim asks with a raised eyebrow. Bucky rolls his eyes and gestures to the gun on his thigh. “Oh. Well, I mean, that’s not surprising. Howard  _ did  _ make weapons.”

“Kid said the same thing,” Bucky mutters, rolling his eyes. “It ain’t normal for a five-year-old to know handguns by sight.”

“No,” Jim allows, “but this is Tony we’re talking about. He’s about as far from normal as you are, frosty.” Bucky casually flips Jim off. Apparently, he’s picked up on Tony’s ridiculous nicknames. “Hey, I could have called you Elsa.”

“And I could snap your neck,” Bucky says easily. He shakes his head at Jim’s laughter. “So. HYDRA snuck into the compound, we’ve got five people who are probably moles, we have no way of knowing just how much information they have, and we haven’t broken them all yet. Plus we don’t know how to get Tony back to his normal age. That about sum it up?”

“Yeah,” Jim sighs, “that about sums it up.” He leans against the wall and crosses his arms over his chest again. “Nat’ll break them, so I’m not worried about that. I’m more concerned about how much HYDRA might already know. FRIDAY will do a deep system scan tonight, but she’ll probably have to go offline to fix anything if HYDRA managed to get in somehow. I doubt that, but you never know. We’ll be at our weakest if she has to do that, and it’ll probably tip off HYDRA, too, so that’s the point when we should expect an attack.”

“Hold off on anything like that for now, yeah?” Bucky asks. “We’ll need to get the whole team prepared, and we’ll need to get Tony to the safest place we can, preferably without freaking him out.” Jim nods. “Hey, FRI, where’s the safest place in the compound, you think?”

“That’d be boss’ lab,” she answers. “Or the Hulk Containment Room.”

“Great, a place where the kid can blow us all up, or a giant glass cage,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes.

“Give Tony some credit,” Jim says, “the Hulk room isn’t made of glass.” Bucky huffs. He knows that, and he knows Jim knows he knows that. That isn’t the point at all. “And anyway, little Tony probably wouldn’t blow us up. Pretty sure FRIDAY wouldn’t let him get his hands on too much stuff like that.”

“‘Course not,” FRIDAY says. She almost sounds offended by the suggestion. “Boss’ safety is my priority. Anyway, Sergeant, he's askin’ for ya.”

Bucky nods and turns to open the door, but Jim stops him with a raised hand. “One more question. Fri, let Tony know Barnes’ll head his way in just a second.” Bucky raises an eyebrow, waiting for Jim to ask his question already. “Where's Tony going to sleep tonight?”

“My bed,” Bucky answers easily. “Couch is big enough for me, and I've slept on it plenty enough as it is. I'm hopin’ he'll feel better if he thinks I'll be between him and anyone who might try and get in.”

Jim nods, then shoos Bucky away. Bucky frowns, knowing Jim has more to say on the issue, but he doesn't press it for now. Tony needs something, and he'd rather make sure the kid was okay than waste time trying to wheedle out information from Jim. 

Out in the living room, Tony is sitting on the very edge of the couch. He turns his big, doe eyes up to Bucky as soon as he realizes Bucky is nearby. “I gotta go to the bathroom,” Tony says in a small voice. “Please?” 

“Sure, kiddo,” Bucky says with an easy nod. He walks a little close to the couch. He's a little thrown by the question, but he tries not to let that show. “Tony, you don't have to…to ask permission or anything, okay? Do you remember where the bathroom is?” Tony nods. “Then you can go by yourself, if you want.” Bucky has to establish that, first, but Tony is shaking his head almost before Bucky finishes asking the question. “Do, uh, do you want me to go with you?”

“Please?” Tony asks quietly. 

“Well, come on,” Bucky says. Tony scrambles up, nearly trips over his own feet in his haste, but catches himself at the last moment against the coffee table. He launches himself at Bucky’s side when Bucky offers his hand for Tony to hold, and Tony practically hangs off him, clinging with quiet desperation. Bucky isn't quite sure why, but he guesses it might have something to do with being alone just then. They'll have to be more careful, he thinks. Tony obviously has developed some attachment and abandonment issues. Not that Bucky blames him - at all - it's just another consideration to keep in mind.

Bucky leads Tony down the hall to his bedroom. He walks to the bathroom door, then stops and nudges Tony inside gently. “I'll be right out here, I swear. Go on.” Tony chews his bottom lip for a minute, then he nods and goes in on his own. He even closes the door. Bucky smiles just a bit. This kid-Tony might not want to do things, but when he does them, he goes all-out. Crossing his arms over his chest, Bucky props himself against the wall by the door to wait, content to stand there as long as necessary. 

“Sergeant?” FRIDAY asks softly. Bucky tips his chin up to show he's listening. “Little boss… he's crying.” Bucky tenses and frowns sharply. “He says it hurts.” FRIDAY flashes a little outline of a person's body, no details, and provides a red flashing area for where the pain is coming from. It makes Bucky grit his teeth, but there's nothing he can do for that kind of pain, especially not right now. 

“We got any mild painkillers safe for a kid?” Bucky asks. “And where are the docs? I didn't think it would take Strange this long. He's always going on about being the damn Sorcerer Supreme.” He's mostly just complaining. He knows it takes time to deal with threats. It just isn't quite fair that Tony has to suffer in the meantime. 

“I'm not detecting any lacerations or tearing,” FRIDAY says, which while… probably helpful, also really, really isn't. Bucky clenches his fists. “Dr. Strange says he will be another few hours, and Dr. Cho is set to arrive late the day after tomorrow.”

“Any suggestions, then?” Bucky asks with a heavy sigh. FRIDAY remains conspicuously silent, and Bucky takes that as a resounding ‘no.’ It wasn't like he was expecting much anyhow. He sighs and tips his head back so that it thunks against the wall behind him. He despises not knowing what to do to help the kid. 

It doesn't take much longer before he hears the toilet flush, though, and then he hears the water splashing against the sink. If he focused, he could hear every individual sound of Tony washing his hands, but he doesn't bother. There's not much point, really, and it would distract him from too much else. Instead, Bucky waits for Tony to turn off the water, and then he forces himself to relax and loosen his posture so he looks as non-threatening as possible. He doubts his success factor, but Tony doesn't seem afraid of him when he leaves the bathroom, so Bucky counts that as a win. 

Bucky doesn't see any evidence of tears, and he hates that. He hates that Tony thinks he has to hide that from him. He makes a mental note to ask Jim to keep Tony on a mostly liquid diet for tomorrow, though, just to make things easier. No reason to cause the poor kid more pain. Bucky nods toward the bed. 

“Wanna go to bed now? You looked pretty tired out there.” Tony looks at the bed for a long moment, considering the question. “I'll be out in the living room asleep on the couch. I'll make sure no one gets back here. They'd have to get through me, and I can even beat up Captain America if I have to.” 

Tony looks up at Bucky with wide eyes. “But no one can beat him,” he whispers. 

“I can,” Bucky says. He doesn't mention that he can't if Steve has the damn shield, and fist-to-fist, Steve is still stronger than he is, but give Bucky a weapon and familiar territory that he can use to his advantage, and he beats Steve every time. “I promise, Tony, I won't let anyone hurt you.” That, Bucky thinks, is a promise he can make and  _ keep _ . 

“Okay,” Tony says quietly. He goes to the bed on his own and climbs up onto the mattress, though it's slow-going. Bucky doesn't offer to help, afraid that Tony will react badly. Once Tony has more or less settled, Bucky wanders closer and tugs the blankets up around Tony's shoulders the way he can distantly remember doing for his baby sister. 

“Need anything before I head out?” Bucky asks. Tony waits for a moment, then shakes his head. “All right, but if you change your mind or if you want anything at all, just tell FRIDAY and she'll let me know, okay?”

Tony chews on his lip for a moment, then gives Bucky a hopeful look. “I used to have a teddy bear. A - a  _ Bucky  _ bear. It was my favorite. Jarvis got it for me for my birthday when I was really little. But I don't know where it is anymore. Do you think…” He looks down at the blanket and fiddles with his fingers under the covers. “Do you think you could find one for me?”

“I'll get one ordered for you, little boss,” FRIDAY says gently. “It'll be here tomorrow.”

“That okay?” Bucky asks. Tony nods, but he still doesn't look up. Bucky can't imagine what must be going through the poor kid's head right now. “I'm just down the hall, okay? I'll keep you safe. Let me know if you want anything.”

“Thanks, Bucky,” Tony whispers. He rolls over to his side, facing the wall, and curls into a tiny ball like he had been on the ‘jet. 

“Goodnight, kiddo,” Bucky says quietly. He stands and heads to the door. Just before he closes it, he hears a very soft whisper of ‘goodnight’ in return that makes him smile a tiny, heartbroken smile. Jim sees him, then, and his eyebrow goes up in speculation. Bucky sighs.

“Something happen?” Jim asks. Damn the man for being so perceptive.

“Yeah, keep the kid on a liquid diet,” Bucky says bluntly. 

“Okay?” Jim says slowly. “I'm… I gotta admit here, Barnes, I don't really see why.”

“Little boss began to cry while he was in the bathroom,” FRIDAY offers helpfully. Jim's face flattens into a hard expression. Bucky just nods. 

“Right. Liquid diet it is, then.” Jim sighs. “Soup and smoothies. Shouldn't be too hard. I hope. FRIDAY, send another message to Strange, tell him to get his wizard ass over here pronto.”

“Sure thing,” FRIDAY chirps. 

Bucky shakes his head as he and Jim head to the living room. “Kid just went down. Not sure I'm willing to wake him up for anything less than an emergency.”

“Agreed,” Sam says from his spot in the armchair along the back wall. “Rest is good for him.” It puts Bucky's back up to see the man in his space, but he doesn't say anything. Jim must have let him in. Maybe he can mention something to him later. 

“I'm not saying it isn't,” Jim says, “but Tony didn't react well to the doctors here, so I'm hoping someone we can introduce him to personally will go over a bit better.”

“Don't let him use magic,” Bucky grunts as he sits on the couch. “No use traumatizing the kid even more.”

“Right,” Sam says with a nod. He looks between Jim and Bucky with narrowed eyes. “There's something you two aren't telling me.”

“And we won't,” Jim says flatly. “It's need-to-know, and frankly, Sam, no one really needs to know. I told Bucky because he's doing so much to help take care of Tony right now, but no one else. I know because I'm Tony's medical proxy.”

“That's fair,” Sam says slowly, “but if I'm gonna be this kid's counselor until we get him back to adult-sized Tony, then I should probably know what I'm dealing with here, don't you think?”

Bucky thinks Sam makes a pretty good point, but that's not for him to decide. He isn't Tony's proxy. Jim gets to make all the hard decisions about tiny Tony's health. If Jim asked, sure, Bucky would offer his honest opinion, but he doesn't expect that to happen.

“I'll talk to Pepper first, and we'll decide together. She sent me a text earlier, said she'd be here late tonight.”

“Brother, it's already past ten,” Sam says, pointing to the digital clock on the wall. Bucky hates ticking sounds, but he refuses to leave his windows without the blackout polarization, so Tony -  _ his  _ Tony - had bought him a digital clock. It's a bit of a joke, really. It's made to look like [an old hand radio](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/SCR-536) that Bucky had used back during World War II. He'd made the comment once, upon entering Tony's workshop back during the early days of his stay, that all the new tech he was surrounded with made the “walkie-talkie” back then look like cheap junk. Tony had laughed, and ever since then, he'd teased Bucky about that radio.

“Late-late,” Jim says. “Around 1 am.” 

Sam rolls his eyes. “Cap wants a debrief if you're available. Are you?” He raises his eyebrows at Bucky first. Bucky shakes his head.

“I'll go,” Jim says. “Bucky is on Tony-duty for the night. I have a few other things to take care of with the compound, plus I'll need to catch Pep up to speed. Maybe I'll get to sleep at some point.” He rolls his eyes, then nods to the door. “Let's go, bird man. Don't want to keep Cap waiting, do we?”

“You wanna tell him his bestie ain't coming?” Sam snarks back as he stands and joins Jim by the door. Jim only laughs. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You won't get The Look, and you can laugh even more when I  _ do _ .”

“You're damn right -” The rest of Jim's response is cut short as the door shuts behind them. Bucky sighs softly and relaxes into his couch. 

“FRIDAY, don't let anyone in here. Better yet, don't let anyone on this floor without checking with me first. Nat and Clint excluded.” He isn't afraid of Natasha, but he'd hate to see what sort of revenge she might think up if he tried to keep her away from her room. “Anyone that's with them, tell them they can come back in the morning. If they put up a fuss, wake me. Level-four override: Sierra Oscar Lima Delta India Echo Romeo 3-2-5-5-7-0-3-8.” Tony thought he was funny giving Bucky that sort of override code. He wasn't. But Bucky would be damned if he let Tony change it now. 

“Override accepted, Sergeant,” FRIDAY says. “Would you like an update on the current state of events?”

“Sure,” Bucky says as he stands to head to the tiny linen closet near the office. He wants a spare blanket and a pillow if he's sleeping on the couch. He could absolutely go without, but why bother? He has the luxuries here, and he's become spoiled, he'll admit. With HYDRA, if he was out of Cryo long enough for them to allow him to sleep, he was lucky if he got to keep his clothes once they locked him into the tiny steal box they called his cell. He'd never told them he could have broken out of it if he'd tried, but back then… well. They'd never asked, and he had more cause to be afraid of the consequences and not know what was worth breaking out for anyway.

“Of the five people detained, three are considered potential threats. The other two were released. I re-ran the facial recognition, and the second time was a much higher match. Along with voice- and fingerprint analysis, they were determined to be exactly who they were supposed to be. The other three cannot be located in any database I have access to.” Meaning legally or illegally, Bucky knows. FRIDAY doesn't exactly allow silly things like laws to stop her when it comes to defending and protecting her creator. “Miss Romanov has been grilling the first detainee for approximately three and a half hours now. He has not broken, nor will he anytime soon, based on my analysis of his behavioral patterns. The other two have been left to ‘sweat’ as I've heard it put.”

“So things are going as smoothly as we'd hoped,” Bucky hums as he tosses his pillow on the couch. “Have you been running your system scan, too?”

“Colonel Rhodes issued an evacuation order, stated that all non-essential personnel were to leave the building. He claimed it was for a training exercise for the Avengers. That leaves only twenty-two non-Avengers employees on campus. I've shut down and sealed all unused areas of the compound. No light, no oxygen, no sound, full alarms. Shutting down all non-essential functions, I am able to maintain a guard over the remainder of the compound, run my deep-system scan, and still handle smaller functions all with a reasonable margin of error for each individual function.” Meaning as close to absolute zero as possible for the deep-system scan, probably a little higher for the guard, and only a little higher than that for anything else.

“Thanks, FRIDAY,” Bucky says. “You're doing great.” She makes something of a not-sound. Bucky frowns a little when he hears it. “FRIDAY?” No answer. Bucky curses and drops the rest of his senses to the background to focus on hearing. He's able to listen through the soundproof walls if absolutely necessary, but it's much harder than he'd like - even if he understands why Tony designed the compound that way in the first place. 

He hears crying. Then FRIDAY - too loud, too fucking loud - speaks in the living room. “I apologize, Sergeant.” Bucky relaxes his hearing as quickly as he can manage, his ears ringing a bit from the assault on his ears. “Little boss is having a nightmare. I tried to wake him, but he isn't responding to auditory or visual stimuli.” 

“I'll take care of it,” Bucky says with a soft sigh. He'd hoped Tony was too exhausted to dream, but that had been too much to ask, he guesses. He's at his bedroom door in a flash, without even realizing he was moving so quickly, and then he's inside and kneeling beside the bed in the next blink. 

“Tony?” Bucky calls softly. “Tony, come on, wake up.” The poor kid is wrapped around himself under the blankets crying his little heart out. He isn't screaming, but his crying his heartbreaking. Bucky reaches over and, gently, he combs his fingers through Tony's hair. “Hey, kiddo, open your eyes, okay? I'm here. I'm right here.” 

Big brown eyes, the whites pink, blink open and focus on him almost immediately. Bucky offers Tony what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “There ya go, Tony. Good job. I'm right here.”

“Please don't leave me alone,” Tony says through choked sobs, his arms still tight around himself. “Please!” 

“Oh,” Bucky says stupidly. He frowns hard. “What - what?”

“It's scary,” Tony sobs, his eyes screwing closed again. “I don't wanna be alone again.” 

“I'm sorry,” Bucky whispers. He feels like utter shit for putting Tony through this. It isn't his fault, he knows that, but he probably should have known better than to leave him alone. “What - what do you want me to do, Tony?”

“Stay here,” Tony wails. “Don’t lemme ‘lone.” He still hasn't opened his eyes again, though, and his face is half buried in his pillow. “‘m scared.”

“Okay,” Bucky says quietly. He nods to himself more than Tony. “Give me just a minute, okay?” He stands and walks over to his dresser, finds a clean pair of sleep pants that he, typically, never bothers with, and tugs those on. He strips out of his shirt and tosses it into the closet - it's still mostly clean, after all, so he can wear it tomorrow - and he takes off his jeans as well. He pulls on the sleep pants, then walks over to the bed and sits down on the edge of it. Tony flinches hard, his eyes flying open. 

“Just me, kiddo,” Bucky says, voice rough with shame. He hates that he caused that reaction. He really should fucking know better. “I'm stayin’, just like you asked. Okay?”

“R-really?” Tony asks, trying to stop his tears. “Mean it?”

“Really,” Bucky says with a nod. He grabs the edge of the covers and pulls the back enough for him to get into bed as well. “I'll stay here with you, okay? Just tell me to leave if you want me to, and I'll go. Won't hurt my feelings, got it?”

“Stay,” Tony mumbles, worming his way closer under the blankets. Once Bucky is comfortable, on his back like most nights, Tony squrims until he's jammed right up against Bucky's side. He falls still shortly after, and Bucky carefully curls one hand - his flesh hand - around Tony's slender back. He rubs his hand across Tony's narrow, bony shoulders a few times, then stills and just holds Tony close to his side.

Fate is some kind of fucked up twisted bitch to give him exactly what he's wanted for a long time now with the one person he's always wanted it with - only that person is now stuck in the body and mindset of a five-year-old. Bucky only wants this little version of Tony to feel safe and content, though, so even though he doesn't want to be here, he will deal with it. He owes the older Tony this much at the very, very least anyway. It's not that Bucky doesn't like the tiny-Tony, he just wants the older Tony back. And…he's worried about this Tony, too. How much of an unhealthy level of attachment is he already forming? 

Bucky waits until Tony falls asleep before allowing himself to whisper to FRIDAY, “Tell Jim, privately, about what all just happened, starting from when he had his nightmare. Tell him he can kill me tomorrow if he wants, but I don't know what else to do.”

“On the contrary, Sergeant,” FRIDAY says, her volume low enough to count as a whisper and probably only barely audible to a baseline human, “Colonel Rhodes said he’d kill you if you  _ didn't  _ agree to stay with the little boss. I am required to inform the Colonel first when anything happens, so he has had a live-feed of the room since before you entered. He said to tell you that you were a good man and that he would relieve you of Tony-duty in the morning.” 

“Thanks, FRIDAY,” Bucky says with a soft sigh. He doesn't know what else he can say to any of that. He tries to relax and sleep, but it doesn't come easy or quickly with the toddler shifting beside him. Yet Bucky wouldn't dare move, not for the world.


	5. Chapter 5

“Okay, kiddo, ready to meet a couple more people?” Sam asks from where he's sitting on the couch. Bucky had gotten up when Tony woke, made him a smoothie with a lot of fruit, and they'd watched some cartoons on TV until FRIDAY told Bucky Sam was requesting access to the floor so he could come and talk to Tony before Pepper wanted to see him. 

“Who?” Tony asks. He's got one of the lego sets Cling left in the bag already mostly assembled on the coffee table. Tony had been a little restless after one episode of some show Bucky can't remember the name of now. He'd switched over to the original  _ Star Trek _ , but he'd also found the lego sets. Tony has been plenty happy with the distraction so far. 

“A lady named Pepper. She's really nice.” Sam leans forward a bit. “What are you building?”

“Somethin’ called a Tie fighter,” Tony says. “Looks neat.”

Sam chuckles. “Yeah. We'll have to watch the movies with you so you can see them in action. There's a doctor we want you to talk to, as well. His name is Dr. Steven Strange. He's weird, but he's a good doctor.” Bucky cuts his eyes over to Sam, wondering if Sam is going to try to mention the whole “magic” thing. They'd agreed not to, but sometimes Sam “forgets.” 

“Okay,” Tony says in a small voice. He doesn't stop building or look up from what he's doing. “Is there somebody else, too?”

“Well, we can introduce you to Clint, and you can see Natasha again if you want. And there's Vision. He's a - well. He's sort of like a robot.” 

Tony's head snaps up at that. “A  _ robot _ ? Cool!” 

“We'll add Vision to the list, little man,” Sam says with a grin. “You have breakfast yet?”

“Yep. A smoothie thing.” Tony carefully puts all the pieces he hasn't used back in the box, then he looks over at Bucky with the partially-assembled tie fighter in his hands. “Where can I put this?”

“You can leave it there,” Bucky says with a shrug. “No one will mess with it while you're gone.”

“You aren't coming?” Tony asks with a frown. Bucky shakes his head. “But - but why?”

“Sam is gonna take you out there, introduce you to everyone. He'll keep you safe.” Bucky doesn't mention that he needs to go talk to Steve. He isn't sure that would go over very well. He watches Tony chew on his lip for a long moment, then nod and carefully set the tie fighter on top of the box. “Tony, hey.” Tony turns slowly toward Bucky, but he doesn't look at him. “Tell me what's wrong.” He doesn't like phrasing it as a command, but he has a feeling that asking won't get him any information. Or, not the information he needs at any rate. 

“I don't wanna go with Sam,” Tony says in a quiet, timid voice. “You said you'd stay. Said you'd keep me safe.” He glances at Sam quickly, then takes a step closer to Bucky and leans in to whisper the next part. “What if the bad guys come back? I heard, before. They're here, aren't they? I don't wanna get hurt again.” 

“None of us are going to let anyone hurt you,” Bucky says as gently as he can manage, though his voice still comes out rough and thick with emotion. This kid really shouldn't be so smart. Bucky sighs a little. “Listen, Tony, I have to go talk to Steve, okay? I know you're scared of him, and that's okay, but I have to do this, all right?” 

“‘m not scared a him,” Tony says petulantly. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks out to the side. “Wanna go with  _ you _ .” 

Bucky looks to Sam. Sam shrugs, then signs, “Let him stay with you. You're his-” here, Bucky thinks Sam means to sign security blanket, but he uses ‘comfort’ instead and it looks odd. Then it's some nonsense about happy and safe followed by crying and angry, which Bucky gets the gist of. Sam  _ really _ needs to work on his ASL, but well, that's a problem for later, he supposes. Bucky doesn't have his memories of the conditioning and training yet, and he's thankful for that, so while he knows ASL, he doesn't remember learning it. 

“All right,” Bucky sighs. “All right. We'll go meet Pepper and Dr. Strange, then we'll stop by and see Vision and probably Wanda too since she's always with him, and then we can talk to Steve.” The only saving grace is that this time Steve won't be in his uniform, at least, so hopefully things will go a little easier. “Jim wanted to spend some time with you today.” Bucky tries to cajole Tony lightly into changing his mind, but Tony just shrugs. 

“He can come too, right?” Tony asks. “Or we can all watch the movie later.” 

“We'll ask him,” Bucky says, figuring he won't get any better than that for now. With any luck, they'll figure out how to fix this shit soon and the older Tony can come back to them. He stands and offers Tony his hand. “Come on, then, let's go see what Clint put in the bag for you to wear. FRIDAY said the delivery with your clothes should be here this afternoon, but we'll make do until then.” 

“Mkay,” Tony says. He sounds happy enough, but Bucky still gives Sam a dirty look as he leads Tony down the hall to his bedroom. Sam casually flips him off in return. 

* * *

It came as no surprise, really, that Tony took an instant shine to Pepper. She's currently sitting on the couch in the big lounge area on the assassins’ floor with Tony curled up beside her while she shows him how to work a tablet and the wonders of the internet. Bucky's just grateful FRIDAY will be able to monitor anything Tony does and prevent him from trying to access anything he shouldn't. She'd handled the introductions with Strange, too, and she'd kept Tony calm while Strange asked a few hard questions. Bucky had to stand on the other side of the room for that part, unable to disguise his rage.

Turned out, HYDRA weren't the ones who'd sexually assaulted Tony. That honor went to Obadiah Stane. Bucky was only sad the man was dead because it meant he couldn't kill the bastard himself. Jim and Pepper had been just as shocked and outraged by the revelation as Bucky had, but Pepper had kept her cool while Jim joined Bucky on the other side of the room. 

Strange did some subtle magic while Tony was distracted, though, and he told them that Tony's blood had absolutely no traces of Extremis. Tony's entire body had reverted to the state it was in when he was five and half. The only good news was that Strange thought he might be able to find a way to reverse the spell, given some time and access to his Sanctum's library. Simply tossing Tony forward through time using the Eye of Agamotto wasn't an option, he’d said, so they had to wait and see. Strange told them to ask for a pediatrician to come and see Tony, since he didn't “do” kids unless it was neurosurgery, and he wasn't a neurosurgeon anymore, either. Jim and Pepper were electing to wait for Helen Cho before calling anyone, though Bucky was still worried about Tony's shoulder. 

“Okay, squirt,” Bucky says once he's reasonably sure he has control over his temper once more and he's not ready to punch a wall. “Let's go meet Vision, okay?”

“Can I have one of these?” Tony asks, pointing to the tablet in his lap. “It's neat.”

“Sure,” Bucky says. 

“I'll have one waiting for you by the time you're ready to go back to Sergeant Barnes’ floor, little boss,” FRIDAY offers. 

“Cool,” Tony says with a happy smile. “Thanks!” 

Pepper smooths her hand over Tony's wild black hair with a small smile of her own. “You'll like Vision, I think. He's very nice.”

“Bucky said he was like a robot!” Tony says excitedly. “That's so cool!” 

“He is,” Pepper says with a light laugh. “Go on and meet him. I'll be here for a few days, so if you want to talk to me, just ask FRIDAY, okay? We'll have dinner together tonight.” 

“Okay,” Tony says. He gives her the tablet and slides off the edge of the couch. “Thank you, Miss Pepper.” 

“You're welcome, Tony.” She reaches out and pinches his nose lightly to make Tony giggle. It's the cutest damn sound Bucky's ever heard. “See you later.”

“Bye!” Tony waves as he jogs over to Bucky. He latches onto Bucky's hand and tugs lightly. “Let's go see Vision now! Please?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky says with a slight smile. Tony's unrepentant grin warms something in his chest. Even if Bucky has to be around for Tony to feel safe, at least Tony isn't shy about meeting the others and spending time with them or cozying up to them. That's good, he thinks. He curls his hand around Tony's and they walk out of the lounge together and head down the hall for the stairwell. 

“Want me to carry you down the stairs? It's two flights.” Bucky makes sure to ask before scooping Tony into his arms. The kid needs to know he has some measure of autonomy here, after all. They can't always let him do whatever he wants, but they can at least ask before touching him or trying to hold him. 

Tony nods silently, looking up at Bucky with big, round eyes after staring at the twisting stairs for a moment. Bucky kneels and opens his arms, and Tony steps closer to wrap his arms around Bucky's neck. His grip is a little too tight, but Bucky doesn't exactly mind. He holds Tony securely with his metal arm under Tony's butt and his flesh arm behind Tony's back. It would be nothing for Bucky to support the kid with just one arm, but Tony seems to need the sense of security. 

“Don't like stairs?” Bucky asks, pitching his voice low so it doesn't echo too badly. 

Tony shakes his head. “Not much.” He keeps Bucky's shirt in a death grip at Bucky's back, his little fists bunching and wrinkling the fabric. 

“We can take the elevator back up if it'll make you feel better,” Bucky offers, only a little reluctant. 

“Promise...promise you won't let me fall?” Tony asks.

“‘Course not,” Bucky says. “Won’t let you get hurt at all if I can stop it.” 

“Stairs are okay, then,” Tony whispers, tucking his head against Bucky's neck. His warm breath tickles. “You don't like el’vators, do ya?”

“No,” Bucky says honestly. “Not a fan of small spaces.” 

“I don't like the stairs,” Tony says quietly. “Or th’ dark. My Bucky bear used to keep me safe. Jarvis said he was special. And he was! He kept the bad stuff from happenin’.” Bucky idly wonders if there was some sort of old-fashioned version of a nanny-cam in the bear. He doesn't suppose it matters, in the end. Tony wouldn't know. “He had special parts in him. Jarvis let me see, once. He said that was what made my Bucky bear keep me safe, but I knew it was a camera. Dad had ‘em around th’ house. Lots in his ‘shop.”

Well. That answers that question. Bucky holds Tony a little tighter. Did no one really know what Stane was doing to him? Did no one care to stop him? He wants to find a way to make Strange send him back in time to demand answers, but he's pretty sure that would get him a resounding ‘no’ with an added lesson about the space-time continuum or some other bullshit, he he really isn't up for a lecture. 

“Okay, almost at the bottom,” Bucky announces for Tony. He feels the tiny, too-thin boy relax a little in his arms. “Want me to put you down when we're out of here?” Tony nods. Bucky's noticed that Tony doesn't mind being coddled too much so long as no one else sees him, but he refuses if anyone else is around. Again, Bucky blames Howard and curses the man in his mind.

“Here we go,” Bucky says as he pushes open the door on the second floor. Most of the other Avengers live on this floor. He, Natasha, and Clint are the exceptions. Clint had wanted a high floor because he liked that sort of thing, and where he went, Natasha often followed. Bucky just didn't want to be near too many other people, so they'd wound up together. He sets Tony on the floor once Tony releases his death grip - and fuck, but they  _ have _ to show Tony  _ Star Wars _ so he can make a joke about Tony force choking him with the strength of his stick-thin arms. 

Tony takes Bucky's hand again and they walk through the floor, headed for the lounge. Vision and Wanda and Clint are relaxing in the massive room just off the kitchen, with Vision attempting to cook something and Wanda perched on the bar between the living room and kitchen to encourage and guide him while Clint heckles him from the couch and watches some shitty daytime reality show. 

“Oh  _ cool _ ,” Tony whispers loudly when he sees Vision. 

“Oh.” Vision spots them first and offers Tony an awkward smile. Bucky thinks he looks weird in his dorky sweater vests, but hey, it's not like he dresses much better in his usual black-on-black or ‘college hipster’ look. “Good afternoon, Tony.”

“He sounds like Jarvis!” Tony says with an excited shout as he tugs at Bucky's hand. “Mister Vision! You sound just like my butler, Jarvis!” 

Vision’s smile somehow looks even more strained. “He, ah, he was indeed a part of my creation,” he says, electing for a distant partial-truth. The computer program JARVIS was based on Tony's old butler, so Bucky supposes it counts as truth. Sort of. It isn't entirely a lie, anyway.

“Is he here?” Tony asks, looking around like he might spot the man.

“I'm afraid not,” Vision says, somewhat sadly. “He… told me quite a lot about you, though.” 

“Neat!” Tony says happily. He tugs his hand free from Bucky's hold and skips into the kitchen. “Oh, that's Ana's [apple crumble](https://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/dave-lieberman/apple-crumble-recipe-1917224).” He grips the edge of the counter and lifts himself up on his toes to get a better look at the yellowed, handwritten recipe card. “You didn't add the lemon juice.”

Vision blinks, his eyes wide with surprise. “No? The… the recipe doesn't call for it.”

“Gotta add it,” Tony says with a nod. “Ana always did. Makes it better, she said. I dunno why. I'm not so good at chemistry yet, though.” 

“What's chemistry have to do with baking?” Wanda asks, curiously, not unkindly. 

Tony peers at her from over the counter. “Dad said cooking was like chemistry. Ana always said it was art. I guess they're both right. Gotta mix all the right stuff in the right amount and the right order and cook it at the right temp’ature for the right time to make it work. Chemistry.” 

“You're quite right,” Vision says with a smaller, but more genuine smile. “Would you like to help me? I...don't exactly eat food, but I've found cooking to be an enjoyable experience.”

“M’kay,” Tony says with a nod. He wrinkles his nose. “Can't reach, though.” 

“Help him hop up on the counter,” Clint says from the living room, raising his voice to be heard. It makes Tony flinch, and Bucky shoots Clint a dirty look he doesn't acknowledge. Clint stands and wanders over to dump himself into a stool on the other side of the counter. “Tony won't fall, right kid?”

“Nope,” Tony says. “I used to sit on the counter to help Ana when she let me.” He looks to Vision and raises his arms. “Please?” 

Vision bends and, carefully, like he's handling some sort of explosive, lifts Tony from under his arms to set him on the countertop. Tony grins once he's sitting up there and looks over at the assembled ingredients and what's already in the bowl. He reaches over, with a twinge of a grimace on his face as he puts his weight on his bad arm, and tugs the big mixing bowl closer. 

“Whatcha added already?” Tony asks.

“The apples and sugar,” Vision answers, tugging the card closer for Tony to see. Tony waves it away. “Don't you want to follow the recipe?”

“I know it,” Tony says simply. “Remember it.” He looks at Vision. “We need lemon juice. Fresh is best, if we can, but the stuff in the bottle works, too.” 

“I'll get the lemons,” Wanda says with a small smile. She hops down from the stool and walks over to the big refrigerator. “How many do we need?”

“Just one,” Tony says. “Gotta juice it.”

“I can get that,” Clint offers. “My son, Cooper, he loves fresh orange juice, so I make it for him when he comes to visit.” He grins at Tony as he walks around the counter and into the kitchen. He reaches into one of the top cabinets for a fancy little juicer. Bucky's only ever seen or used the hand kind that required him to squeeze it with his hand. “Here ya go.” Clint sets it on the counter between Vision and Tony.

“I don't believe I've ever juiced a lemon before,” Vision says softly, staring at the juicer like it might bite him. 

“I can do it, Vhiz,” Wanda offers as she slips into the space beside him with a sliced lemon in her hand. “Just put one half on the top like this and twist.” She demonstrates for him. “It catches most of the seeds for you, but you might have to scoop a couple out.”

Bucky watches as they begin to put the ingredients in the bowl. They grab a second mixing bowl for the rest and mix that up together as well, Tony keeping up an almost constant stream of chatter as he works with Vision and Wanda. Bucky might still distrust Wanda's magic, but she's a sweet girl, really, and she hasn't attempted to use magic a single time in front of Tony. He won't suddenly become her best friend because of this, but if he can maybe wring a promise out of her to keep the magic to a bare minimum around him, then maybe he won't avoid her so damn much. He just...never really asked her to. 

He watches in silence from his sentry position near the entryway as they get the crumble put together and into the oven at last. Tony seems absolutely fascinated by the microwave and the fancy fridge and oven. That doesn't surprise Bucky in the least, and he finds himself texting FRIDAY to ask her to order a microwave for Tony to tear apart so he can see how it works when he begins asking questions none of them can reliably answer. It blows Bucky away that the kid is so damn smart at such a young age. He's not just intelligent, he knows which questions to ask to figure things out, too. 

Bucky's position by the door is how he hears Steve coming before he spots him. He glances down the hall and holds up a finger to signal Steve to wait. Steve stops in his tracks and nods solemnly. Bucky walks closer to Tony while Tony is asking some rather pointed questions about how Vision “works.”

“Hey, kiddo,” Bucky interrupts gently. Tony clams up and looks down at the floor, folding his hands in his lap. 

“Sorry. I didn't mean to talk so much,” Tony says quietly.

“No, hey, that's not a problem,” Clint says quickly. “You don't ever have to apologize for that, okay? I think Bucky just needs to ask you something.”

Tony looks up at Bucky shyly, and Bucky nods. “You're fine, Tony. You ain't in trouble. But while that bakes, why don't we go see Steve, huh? We can come back here after, when it's done, and you can have a bit.”

“Do - do you have ice cream, too?” Tony asks.

“We do,” Wanda says with a warm smile. “All kinds. You can have a big giant bowl of it.”

“Oh yay, sugar high,” Clint says with a huge grin. “We can eat ice cream and then go play video games!” 

“Like Atari?” Tony asks, his face lighting up with delight. 

“Even better, youngling,” Clint says with a wicked grin. “I'll show you later. Go chat with Steve-arino for a bit first, okay? Then it's fun and games time.” 

“Okay,” Tony says with a nod. He looks to Vision. “Can you put me down?” 

“Yes, of course,” Vision says quickly, but he looks incredibly flustered by the request. He handles Tony just as delicately as before, keeping him far from his body as he sets Tony very lightly on his feet. “Thank you for your assistance, Tony. I'm certain the apple crumble will taste fantastic thanks to you.” 

It's Tony's turn to look flustered now. “I didn't make it,” he mumbles. He looks up at Bucky and walks closer before shyly tucking his hand into Bucky's metal one. “We can go now, if you want.”

“Okay,” Bucky says with a nod. He walks with Tony out to the hall, but Steve has vanished. He crouches in front of Tony. “Listen, kiddo. If you get too scared and you want to leave, just tell me, okay? We'll get out of there and Clint can show you some video games while Wanda makes you some ice cream, okay? You won't get in trouble or anything.”

“Dad says I gotta be brave, even when I don't wanna do stuff, like get shots.” Tony chews on his lip and tugs at the Thor t-shirt he's wearing. Clint must have thought he was really funny, putting all this Avengers merchandise in the bag of shit for him to wear. “I'll be good. And brave.”

“It's okay to be scared,” Bucky says. “Remember what I said? I get scared sometimes, too. That's okay.”

“I don't want to be scared,” Tony whispers.

“No one  _ wants _ to be scared,” Bucky says gently, “but it happens sometimes anyway, and we can't stop it. But I'll keep you safe, and Steve won't hurt you. I promise he won't.”

“M'kay,” Tony says with a nod. He doesn't look entirely convinced, but Bucky figures it would be best to just show him right now. Bucky stands, but Tony tugs on his jeans before Bucky can offer his hand. “Will you carry me this time?”

“Sure, buddy,” Bucky says. He kneels again, and Tomy clings to him quickly, more desperate than he was when facing the stairs. “I got you.” He rubs Tony's back gently, mindful of the scrapes and burns and bruises that are still healing over his skin. “Hey, FRIDAY? Will you tell me where Steve is, please?”

“He's in the conference room, Sergeant,” FRIDAY answers. Bucky nods. It was a good choice. Nice, neutral territory, and in a place they didn't often use. He turns and walks the other direction to head that way. It doesn't take long to reach the big, mostly-glass room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i will also not apologize for my star wars and star trek references  
> tony was absolutely a baby trekkie and you will never convince me otherwise  
> also, for reference, when i refer to star trek, i do mean the original series. (and if you haven't watched it you totally should because i love it and its amazing)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> otherwise known as the chapter where i will probably get a lot of hate

Steve is sitting in one of the chairs along the far side, not at the end of the table and not in the middle. It's a good choice, strategically speaking. It'll feel less like they're going to war against each other. 

Bucky nudges open the door with his hip so he doesn't have to take his hands off Tony. “Hey, Steve. Tony, Steve is in here.” 

Tony peeks up from where he's hidden his face in Bucky's shoulder. “Hi, Mister Rogers.” 

Steve offers Tony a watery, unsure smile. “Hi, Tony. You been taking good care of Bucky? He can be a lot of work sometimes.” Bucky rolls his eyes, but Tony giggles a little bit and nods. “Good man. Glad to see someone can handle the job. I know I couldn't. You know I lost him, once?”

“How'd you lose a whole person?” Tony asks with another giggle. “He's so big!”

“I'm really, really good at hide-and-seek,” Bucky says, deadpan. One of Tony's hands comes up to cover his mouth as he giggles again, louder this time. “We can play, later. All of us. I bet you ten bucks I win.”

“Ten dollars?” Tony asks with wide eyes. “But I don't have ten dollars.”

“Hmmm,” Bucky says, over exaggerating the sound and drawing it out. “Well. If you lose, you gotta build me somethin’. How's that?”

“Deal!” Tony says quickly. “I'm good at buildin’ stuff.”

“I've heard,” Bucky says with a smirk. He pulls out a chair across from Steve but one down and sits with Tony in his lap. “So, Steve. What's going on?”

“We've taken care of the moles,” Steve says. “Not much was useful, but we'll have to go into full lockdown tonight so FRIDAY can shut down and make some repairs to her system.” 

“We'll head down to the workshop,” Bucky says. He prefers that idea to being locked in the Hulk cage. He's pretty sure he can keep Tony distracted down there, too, and that will keep him distracted in turn. Natasha or Clint would probably be up for sitting with him. Clint, most likely. Natasha didn't seem to be interested in being near Tony for longer than a couple minutes at the time. He can guess why, but he doesn't like to think about it.

“Sounds good. We'll get it all set up with the team and decide on a time,” Steve says with a nod. “How have things been...with the two of you?”

“Good,” Bucky says with a shrug. “Tony's a great kid.” He means it, too, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want  _ his _ Tony back as soon as possible. He'll miss the closeness, but he won't miss the depressing shit that goes with having a tiny, five-year-old version of Tony running around. 

“Hey, Tony?” Steve asks gently. Tony looks up at Steve with a blank face. “You...You know I'd never hurt you, right? My job is to  _ protect  _ kids.”

Tony crumbles in on himself and leans against Bucky for support. “But… but Dad said. Dad - Dad said he'd get you outta the ice, special, just for me. He said he'd tell you I was a Nazi, like the ones you used ta fight, and that you'd beat me up.” He wraps his skinny arms around himself as tight as he can. “He said you'd hurt me worse than Obie.”

Steve goes rigid in his seat, and Bucky pales. He wraps his arms around Tony and holds him close. “Your dad was  _ lying _ ,” Bucky says desperately. “Steve wouldn't ever do anythin’ like that. I swear, Tony. I've known that stupid punk almost his whole life. He'd never hurt you. Not even if someone told him you were a Nazi.”

“I promise I wouldn't,” Steve says, just a hair desperate. “Never. On my mama's grave, Tony, I'd never hurt you like that.”

“But Dad said!” Tony shouts, his eyes red and his cheeks blotchy. “He said I was bad, all th’ time! He - he hurt me, lots, and it didn't matter! Aunt Peggy and Mister Fury didn't stop him, not ever! And Dad said that if they found you before him, that he'd make sure they told you all ‘bout me, so you'd know I was bad!”

Steve looks absolutely horrified. Bucky feels the same way. Not only did Tony apparently know Peggy Carter, but she was his  _ aunt _ somehow, too. And Fury fucking knew and didn't do a goddamn thing. Bucky fully intends to track Fury down the first chance he gets to punch the man's teeth out, but that will have to wait. 

“I’d - I'd never hurt a kid, Tony,” Steve tries again. “Doesn't matter what someone tells me about them. And I won't hurt you, either. I swear it. H-How-Howard was lying.”

Tony's crying now, but he doesn't stop talking. Bucky almost wishes there was a way he could magically shut Tony up. He seriously doubts Tony's older self is going to appreciate them knowing  _ any  _ of this, but especially Steve knowing. The team tends to keep Tony at arm's-length, mostly due to the Ultron fiasco. Bucky doesn't care. He's done worse himself, after all, but the others don't see it that way. Steve and Tony seem to be at opposite ends of a spectrum too often these days, and while Bucky doesn't like it, he understands why, and he usually sees where each of them have their points. 

Sometimes, if the argument is too bad, he'll creep in behind them and make subtle suggestions to each of them, and eventually Steve and Tony will meet again and compromise, but those always end with Tony sacrificing more than Steve does, though Bucky never plans it that way. Hell, the last time a truly large argument had broken out between Steve and Tony, Tony had been in the right all the way around, but Steve wouldn't listen, and Tony still went to Steve to compromise and gave up too much - far more than he was comfortable with, in the end. That had led to Tony taking a solo mission in an attempt to recover some stolen tech from Ultron's legionnaire army, and that was when Tony had been hit by HYDRA's shitty magic and taken from them.

“Dad likes you more than he likes me,” Tony says through his tears, choking on his words. “He missed you so much, and it made him drink all the time. Mama says it makes him feel better because he's hurting. She - she gives me some, too, sometimes, after Dad hits me for being bad. I'm- I'm always so bad, but I don't know how to be good anymore ‘cause he won't tell me, and the stuff I make for him just makes him madder!”

Steve looks absolutely gobsmacked, and Bucky feels about the same, but probably a lot more murderous. He'd never been all that fond of Howard himself. The man's inventions were amazing, out-of-this-world incredible, but Howard himself had always struck him as a showboating womanizer, and Bucky hadn't liked him at all. Now, Bucky knows he was right to distrust him so long ago, especially if this was the sort of man he'd become - an abusive bastard to a brilliant, sweet, kid.

“Hey, Tony,” Bucky says, his tone gentle but his voice rough. He rubs Tony's good arm up and down, trying to sooth him “Listen, okay? Howard...Howard isn't here. He's gone. A long, long way away. And he isn't coming here. So he can't hurt you, and Stevie here won't, either. I promised to keep you safe, remember? And I'll do that, I swear. Against anyone and everyone if I gotta. Just...just don't be mad at Steve, okay? He didn't do anything wrong this time. That was all your dad, and your dad was the one who was wrong.”

“You can't say that!” Tony says, horror coloring his tone and expression as his eyes go wide and his face pales. “He - he'll hear you and get you.”

“He won't,” Steve says, desperate and yet gentle. “I swear, Tony, he won't hurt anyone here. Not ever again.” A part of Bucky wants to tell Tony his dad is dead, but he doesn't think that's really a good idea. “I'll - I'll stay away, okay? You don't have to talk to me anymore.”

Tony sniffs hard and, like flicking a switch, he stops his tears and chokes them back. His face is still blotchy and his eyes are still red, but he isn't sobbing. His breath is a little choked and his voice isn't quite steady when he speaks, but he's done a damn good job of shutting all that off for a fucking toddler. Bucky feels even more fresh hate surge toward Howard. He can guess at the sorts of things Howard had threatened Tony with to ingrain that sort of response into a child so very, very young.

“I don't wanna be bad,” Tony says quietly. “I'll be good, I promise. You - you can stay. I'll be good.”

“Oh, Tony,” Bucky sighs sadly. “Listen, kiddo, you don't have to be around Steve if you don't want to. I told you that earlier. Remember?”

“Yes,” Tony says with a little nod. “I ‘member everything. But… but I wanna stay here. And Capt’n ‘Merica is the one who says I get to stay, right?”

“No,” Steve says, shaking his head with a small, sad smile. “That's not how it works. You get to stay no matter what. If you want me to leave, you can tell me to leave, and I will.”

“You will?” Tony asks timidly. Steve nods. “Then… will you please leave?” Steve stands immediately. “Maybe… maybe not this place,” Tony says, “but… maybe we can try ‘gain tomorrow. Mama says things always get better the next day.” 

“Okay, Tony,” Steve says with a small, still sad smile. “I'd like to try again tomorrow, if you're okay with that. If not, that's okay, too. I won't be mad.”

“Okay. Sorry I yelled at you, [Mister Rogers](https://www.misterrogers.org/).”

“You can call me Steve,” he says with a forced light tone. “And it's okay, Tony. I'm sorry for scaring you so much.” Tony huddles in Bucky's arms as Steve walks the long way around the table and leaves the conference room. Bucky simply holds Tony close, needing to know Tony is safe in his arms just as much as Tony needs to feel safe. 

They sit like that for several long minutes until Tony begins to squirm a little. “I need to go to the bathroom,” he finally whispers. Bucky nods and, rather than giving Tony the option this time, simply carries Tony to the nearest bathroom. Tony doesn't take long, and when he comes back, he's washed his face and he doesn't look like he spent several minutes crying. That's probably a good thing, really. 

“Wanna get ice cream and play video games?” Bucky asks. Tony shrugs a little. “Ice cream first, then, and we'll see about video games after. Sound good?” Tony nods and slips his cold hand into Bucky's flesh hand before they set off down the hall. 

Back in the kitchen, Wanda smiles in delight when she sees Tony and begins to drag out all eight containers of ice cream from the freezer. Bucky didn't know they had that many different flavors here. Then again, he isn't the biggest fan of ice cream. He isn't particularly fond of anything frozen or very cold, honestly. Tony likes all the flavors, unsurprisingly, but he goes with plain vanilla as his final choice. Wanda makes him a big bowl of it and gets him set up on one of the stools at the bar. Bucky has an orange instead, but he gives Tony a slice when he sees Tony eyeing it. 

The sugar perks Tony right back up, and soon, he's walking hand-in-hand with Clint to the game room. Bucky follows at first, mostly to see Tony's reaction to the video games they have. Clint chooses one of the new Pokemon games, and Tony's eyes are as big as dinner plates as Clint explains how the controller works.

“Hey, Tony? I'll be back in a few minutes, okay? If you need me, just ask FRIDAY,” Bucky says. Tony nods to show he's heard, but he's entirely too engrossed in the game to pay him much attention. Bucky slips out of the room with a thin smile. Well, if Tony doesn't remember any of this when he's his real age again, maybe he'll want to see what he was like. “Hey, FRIDAY? Will you save a recording of tiny Tony in there? For older Tony, when he gets back to us.”

“You got it, Sarge,” FRIDAY says, her voice radiating fondness. “And may I say, thank you for saying ‘when’ and not ‘if.’ It's a relief to hear.”

“He'll come back to us,” Bucky says confidently. “Don't matter if I gotta steal Strange’s fancy necklace and figure out how it works myself. He don't deserve to be stuck like that: hurt and scared all the time.”

“You're damn right.” Bucky flinches hard. He hadn't noticed Jim standing in front of the door to Steve's rooms. “Where's your leech?”

“Playing Pokemon with Clint,” Bucky says. “They're in the game room. Tony just ate a bowl of ice cream as big as his head. You can thank Wanda for that one. I imagine he'll be burning through that sugar high for at least a good hour.”

“We should probably get the poor kid some candy,” Jim says with a sigh. “God knows Howard never let him have any.” 

“I took the liberty of ordering some already,” FRIDAY says proudly. “I felt it fell under the category of ‘kid stuff’ that had been requested. The order has been delivered and I've got some bots taking it up to your room now, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Thanks, FRIDAY,” Bucky says with a half-smile. “You're the best.” She doesn't say anything, but her silence is somehow smug. Bucky isn't entirely sure how an AI with no body can have so much presence, but FRIDAY certainly does. Bucky turns his attention to Jim, his smile fading. “What brought you down here?”

“Tony was crying,” Jim says. “FRIDAY gave me an alert, just in case I was needed. I watched what went down in the conference room.” Jim sighs and rubs one hand down his face. “You… probably shouldn't have let Tony say all that. He won't thank you for it later.”

“What was I supposed to do?” Bucky snaps. “Put my hand over his mouth to keep him quiet? Because  _ fuck no _ , Jim. You heard what Howard did to him. You know what Stane has done. You know that fucking Peggy Carter and Nicky Fury let Howard get away with that shit, too. I was  _ not _ about to become another person who silenced him and pretended not to hear, not to fucking listen.”

Jim gives him a flat look. “I agree with you, but Tony - our Tony, the older one - won't. He'll hate you for letting his child-self spill all those secrets. It's not right, and I can try to mitigate the damage, but it still won't be pretty.”

“Let Tony be pissed at me,” Bucky says with an angry shrug. “I’ll explain myself to him, too, and if he still has a problem with what I did after that, then I know it's on him, not me. You know I did the right thing by letting him talk and get that shit out of his system. By  _ listening _ to him. I won't take that back, and I won't apologize.”

“I'm not saying you should,” Jim sighs. “I'm just being realistic, here. Anyway, I didn't come down here for you. I came down here for Steve.” He knocks on the door, and Bucky realizes that it isn't the first time he's knocked. “Open the door, Rogers! I'll have FRIDAY open it for me, just watch! Don't be a damn coward!”

The door opens a few seconds later. Steve looks like shit. He's still pale and shaky, and he looks a bit like he could really use some sugar. Bucky rolls his eyes and shoves his way past Steve into his room to hunt for the small candy horde Steve keeps around for moments just like this. His metabolism is so damn high he  _ has  _ to keep things like that on hand occasionally. It's just another reminder that his and Steve’s serums are vastly different. Bucky doesn't eat nearly as much, for one, and he can go days or even weeks without food if he has to (and he has). Steve wouldn't last a day without a good meal. He probably wouldn't faint or anything else so dramatic, but he definitely gets more tired the longer he goes without food. Tony had to add an extra compartment to his belt just for protein bars so Steve could sneak in snacks while they were on missions.

Steve takes the handful of candy Bucky dumps into his hand, all unwrapped, and he obediently eats two pieces at once. “What is it, Jim?” Steve asks, looking at Jim with a morose expression.

“So. I bet you feel like a jackass now, huh?” Jim asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Steve looks guilt-stricken. Bucky… doesn't quite understand.

“What?” he asks. 

“Steve here used to think it was a fantastic idea to give Tony shit for disrespecting Howard,” Jim says casually. “Used to say Howard was a great man, one of the best, and that Tony just didn't know him like Steve did. Isn't that right, Steve? Oh, and let's not forget every single time you make a comment about him being an alcoholic. That was always fun. Tony didn't stop drinking because of you, but you know one of the first things he said when he got his ten-days sober chip? ‘At least Cap will stop complaining.’” 

Bucky stares at Steve, saying nothing. He knows, perfectly well, that Steve had no idea about the depths of Howard's abuse, but even Bucky had picked up on how Tony was about Howard. There was obviously some sort of abuse going on, Bucky figured, though he'd always figured it was more neglect than anything truly physical. Steve had a problem with drunks because of his own father, but Bucky never really knew Tony when he wasn't sober. He'd heard the stories, though, and he'd seen plenty of videos. While Tony wasn't anything close to mean or aggressive, he could definitely be a snarky bastard if someone pissed him off. Otherwise, just from what secondhand information Bucky had gathered, Tony seemed like one of those happy-go-lucky spread-the-love drunks. He… doesn't really understand where Steve's apparent animosity toward Tony came from. 

“I didn't know,” Steve whispers, voice choked and broken. 

“Bullshit, Rogers,” Jim snaps. “Everyone knew Howard was an abusive asshat. Everyone was just too afraid of him to do anything about it. You know I called child services on the asshole once, after Tony came back from Christmas break beat to hell and back? They sent someone out to ‘investigate,’ but apparently, even though Tony sat there right in front of me and the DCF guy and told us exactly what happened, there ‘wasn't enough evidence to proceed with the case.’ Several of Tony's professors had called too, I later found out. 

“You know I didn't actually meet Tony until he was a junior? Yeah. He was sixteen. I was nineteen. He'd done so many interviews with DCF that everyone in the office new him by name. Didn't fucking matter. Howard bought them off every fucking time. Didn't matter even when Howard broke his goddamn jaw and he had to have it wired shut for three months. You know what a pain in the ass it was for him, not being able to eat anything solid for that long? It gave him a fucking eating disorder, man. And yet you have the nerve to harp on Tony about his eating habits even though I've told you,  _ repeatedly _ , to let the shit fucking drop.”

Bucky's almost ready to punch  _ Steve _ at this point. Sure, he asks Tony if he's hungry, and he tries to get Tony to eat more, but mostly that just involves showing up with a plate of food, dropping it by Tony's elbow, and vanishing again all before Tony even realizes he's there. He hadn't known Tony's issues with eating were quite that severe, no, but he wouldn't have pushed anyway.  _ He _ still had trouble eating. Tony's liquid smoothie diet works pretty well on those days, honestly. HYDRA had given him something...similar. He didn't get real food for almost the entirety of the time he can remember being with them. Their nutrition drinks hadn't tasted nearly as good, though. Yet Steve never bothers  _ Bucky  _ about eating. Only Tony, apparently. And he used to hound him about his drinking. And about saying anything negative about Howard. 

“Is there anything Tony's ever done that you've approved of?” Bucky asks quietly, a horrible realization dawning on him. “Anything that doesn't involve nearly or literally killing himself to save someone else or his tech for the Avengers or SI.” 

Steve opens his mouth, then he shuts it. He tries again, a furrow forming between his eyebrows as he thinks hard after being forced to close his mouth for a second time. “He… he built this place. He keeps it running and keeps the Avengers funded and running without anyone like SHIELD trying to tell us what to do.”

“Anything about Tony as a person?” Jim asks, one eyebrow raised. He waves that away. “Nevermind. I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself trying to think of something. So let me give you a few examples. Tony is one of the richest men on the planet, but he's actually pretty damn humble when it comes down to it. If people would let him, he'd spend all his time holed up in his ‘shop building shit. But he has to be a real life adult human, and he learned, from Howard I might add, how to behave in front of paps and cameras. He's one of the most generous people I've ever met. Do you know he spent millions of dollars designing each of the original Avengers their own floors in his tower after the Battle of New York? But none of them took him up on his offer to live there until after SHIELD fell and they had nowhere else to go and no way to collect a paycheck. 

“Tony funds forty-two different charities, including scholarship opportunities and grants for disabled vets to get a decent fucking education so they can focus entirely on school and not have to work some dead-end job and try to juggle a full class load on top of that. He donates to orphanages and food banks and foster care. He gives away more money than anyone else, including the other billionaires of the world. His net worth holds steady at about 12 billion because every time he makes anything more, he finds another cause to donate to. Last Christmas, he went on GoFundMe and topped off every single drive he found that was for a worthy cause. And he did the work on that himself. He didn't have anyone do it for him.

“Tony  _ helps you save the goddamn world _ on a regular basis. He builds your equipment, he pays for your damages, he funds the Avengers so you can remain a private organization so the government has no real say about what you do, even if he isn't comfortable with that. But, well, you won that argument,  _ Cap _ , so he doesn't say a word about it. You know he spent almost six billion last year in damages because of the Avengers? And that's  _ only _ for the damage caused. That doesn't include your paycheck or your equipment. Or this compound.

“Tony's sweet and funny and generous. He's the biggest fucking dork I've ever met. He's not perfect, no, but he's a  _ good man _ , Rogers, and I don't understand why you don't fucking get that. Do you just, I don't know, stop listening when he casually mentions that Howard always liked you more than him, or the one time the medics doped him up with morphine because he had a  _ broken arm _ but he told them not to worry about it because he'd already broken it four times before and it would be just fine until he managed to get to the med team here? Or what about the nightmares and the panic attacks because he has severe PTSD because of flying a nuke into space, or getting open heart surgery in a goddamn cave and then being waterboarded while he had a fucking  _ car battery _ stuck to his chest. Or when Pepper was almost killed by the Mandarin. Or when the program he wasn't  _ nearly _ finished making with Bruce decided to gain sentience and become a murder bot and try to drop half a fucking country on the earth like the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs. Or how about all the child abuse he suffered at the hands of his father, the neglect from his mother, and the apparent  _ sexual abuse _ from his own godfather that probably has a lot to do with the reason he was so hypersexual in the first place. 

“Because I just don't get your beef, Rogers, I really don't. Sometimes you're nice enough to Tony, but I always feel like the only times that happens is when you're going to ask for something. Like Tony's apology omelettes. He only makes those when he feels like he needs to apologize for something.”

Bucky is quiet in the face of Jim's long rant, but he doesn't fault the man for anything he's said. He wonders what Steve will say in return, though. What  _ can _ Steve say? Bucky knows good and well that Steve doesn't have any sort of answer. Hell,  _ Bucky  _ doesn't have any sort of answer. This is all such a mess. Tony… Tony is really going to hate all of them now, isn't he? Bucky wouldn't blame him.

Steve doesn't say anything at all, which is honestly pretty surprising. Steve could (and has, Bucky has it on good authority) argued with a stop sign. Yet he isn't even trying to defend himself against Jim's accusations. 

Eventually, he takes a deep breath and nods. “I - I was wrong. I judged Tony based on what’d I'd heard and assumed about him. I'm sorry.”

“Did that hurt? Jim asks. “Did it cause internal bleeding?” Steve gives him a flat look. “No, really. I need to know.”

“No,” Steve says through gritted teeth. 

“Good, then that means you can say it again once Tony's back to his normal age. And you can stop acting like a patronizing jackass toward him. I don't expect you to change around everyone, I really don't. I just think it's funny that Wanda used to be HYDRA and helped ULTRON, that she was the one who planted that nasty vision in Tony's head to make him want to build it so fast, and yet she gets all your forgiveness and more, yet Tony doesn't see so much as a scrap of it.”

“Wanda is different,” Steve says, his jaw set stubbornly.

“How?” Jim parries.

“She had a hard childhood. She didn't grow up with a silver spoon in her mouth like Tony did. And she's just a kid!” Bucky sighs and shakes his head. Steve is  _ such  _ a jackass.

“Oh, I'm sorry, did we  _ not _ just have a conversation about how Tony's childhood wasn't all sunshine and roses? Or do I need to remind you that just because Tony's family was rich that he didn't get anything actively handed to him on a silver platter? He  _ bled _ for every scrap of his company and fortune, Rogers.” Jim's voice turns cold and hard. “And Wanda isn't some little girl. She's twenty-four years old. She was twenty-two when the shit with ULTRON went down, so don't give me  _ shit  _ about her not knowing any better. She  _ chose  _ to throw her chips in with HYDRA. No one forced her into that life. And she hurt a lot of people because of what she did. Tony has too, don't get me wrong. But he's been trying his damndest to atone for what he's done ever since he found out what was happening when Stane was selling his weapons under the table.”

Steve opens and closes his mouth like a fish. Jim sneers at him. “Yeah, you think about all that. FRIDAY, make sure to give him a replay in ten minutes, and again before he tries to leave this room. I want you to think long and fucking hard about everything I've said before you try to come out of here with some kind of righteous argument.” Jim turns on his heel and leaves without another word.

Bucky just shakes his head at Steve. “I don't understand, Steve. You used to hate bullies. Why are you acting like one?” Bucky turns to leave as well. He needs to go punch something. Repeatedly. For a long time, probably. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> seriously tho, don't send me hate. im just going to delete it. but also? it takes a whole fuckin lot out of me to get the nerve to post shit on here. so like. do me a favor. unless you have something actually CONSTRUCTIVE and/or nice to say (that is, helpful - not goddamn insulting) then just keep your comment to yourself. i don't fucking want it. i can't deal with shitty people right now.


	7. Chapter 7

Dinner that night is mostly peaceful. Bucky, Pepper, and Jim have soup with Tony and sit down to watch the first  _ Star Wars  _ movie. Pepper is working from her tablet most of the time, but Tony doesn't seem to mind from where he's curled up beside her with his head in her lap. Pepper and Jim had decided not to tell anyone else about Stane, and Pepper went to see Steve and threatened him personally against saying anything to the others about what Tony had said in the conference room earlier. Apparently, FRIDAY still hadn't allowed him to leave his room several hours after Jim and Bucky left. Bucky thinks that says more about Steve than it does FRIDAY. 

 

Once the movie is over, Bucky wrangles a tired Tony into some brand new pajamas with tiny tie fighters printed on them. He isn't going to try for a bath this late with Tony so tired. He and Clint had played video games for a while, and then Clint had roped Wanda and Sam into joining them for board and card games. Bucky doesn't try to leave Tony alone this time. Instead, he lays down beside Tony with his own tablet and reads a book until he's tired enough to sleep himself.

 

Only to be woken up an hour or so later when Tony starts whining in his sleep, his little legs kicking Bucky's thigh hard. It takes a couple minutes of gentle coaxing to wake Tony, and then Tony is suddenly in his arms and sobbing into his neck. Bucky rubs his back and his arm trying to soothe him, but nothing seems to be working.

Finally, FRIDAY seems to take pity on Bucky. “You might try singing to him, Sarge. According to what I've found on the internet, some children find it very comforting. And boss loves music.”

“What am I supposed to sing?” Bucky asks somewhat miserably. “I don't remember any -” He stops. He does remember the words to songs. Not new ones, of course, but old ones, from his life  _ before _ . Those memories are dimmer and fuzzier, but certain things stick out more than others. He remembers [an old movie](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Wizard_of_Oz_\(1939_film\)), one of the few he'd seen more than once with [color](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Technicolor).

“[Somewhere, over the rainbow](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XulvnXo6BJk) _ … _ ” Bucky's voice starts out scratchy and too low and too rough, but he doubts Tony cares much anyway. He'd had a pretty decent singing voice, once, but he'd actively  _ tried  _ back then. Now...well. It's been seventy some-odd years since he's tried to sing.

“ _ Way up high… _ .” Tony's awful sobbing isn't quite so bad, maybe. But maybe that's just wishful thinking. Still, it can't really hurt to try, especially since nothing else is working, and the only other song Bucky can sort of remember is “Puttin’ on the Ritz,” but somehow, he doubts that one would help as much. “ _ There's a land that I heard of, once in a lullaby _ .” Tony clings a little harder, but he really is a little bit quieter. 

Bucky is more than a little desperate as he continues. He doesn't even remember all the words, he doesn't think. Tony probably won't care, right? “ _ Somewhere, over the rainbow _ .” Bucky has to hum the next bit. He's sure that it isn't the same words as last time. “ _ And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true _ .” 

“ _ Someday I'll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind me _ .” Bucky is stuck humming the next bit again, unable to remember all the words. “ _ And way above the chimney tops, that's where you'll find me _ .” 

And  _ fuck _ but Bucky doesn't quite remember how the rest of it goes. He rocks Tony back and forth gently. He's stopped being so loud, but he's still crying. Bucky can feel all the tears and snot on his shoulder. Which, yeah, he's not exactly thrilled with that situation, but he isn't going to push Tony away, either. And then he sees his tablet, still lying on the bed face-up, light up with a page already pulled up. Bucky grabs it and finds the lyrics to the damn song. If FRIDAY was a real girl, he'd give some serious consideration to strangling her. He has a suspicion that Jim is watching all this and cackling. 

“ _ Somewhere over the rainbow, bluebirds fly. Bluebirds fly over the rainbow; why, oh why, can't I _ .” Tony shifts a little against his chest, tugging his arms closer to his tiny body rather than trying to half-strangle Bucky. Bucky leans back against the headboard and sighs a little before launching into the rest of the song. He ends on a shaky note, but Tony is quiet and he's not crying as hard anymore either. Bucky wracks his brain, trying desperately to remember any other songs, but he just  _ can't _ right now. He supposes his near-perfect recall doesn't apply to song lyrics. Maybe he can find a way to fix that.

“Again?” Tony whispers softly. Bucky swallows hard, but he nods, his chin brushing along the side of Tony's head. 

Bucky sings through the song a second time, made easier thanks to FRIDAY providing the lyrics. Tony is breathing soft and slow when Bucky finishes, but he isn't asleep yet. That's fine by Bucky. He'd rather get up and clean Tony's face and his shoulder. He didn't realize little kids were quite so… full of various liquids that got all over everything they touched. 

“Better now?” Bucky asks quietly. Tony nods a little into Bucky's shoulder. “Okay. How about we go get your face cleaned up, and then I can get us something to drink, and then we can try to go back to sleep. Sound good?”

Tony shakes his head. “Don't wanna sleep. Bad dreams.” 

Bucky rubs Tony's back gently. He doesn't know what he's supposed to say to that. “We'll clean up and get a drink first and then I'll ask again.” He nudges Tony off his lap, gently, then rolls to stand beside the bed before Tony shuffles closer with his arms up in a silent plea. Bucky scoops Tony in his arms and carries him to the bathroom. He makes quick work of Tony's snotty and tear-stained face, then he cleans up his own shoulder. 

Carrying Tony into the Dark Brotherhood kitchen (and damn Tony for making the name stick like that, honestly), Bucky fills the electric kettle with water and sets it to boil. He fishes through one of the cabinets for the box of Sleepy Time tea. It doesn't really work on him, but he figures it might work for Tony, and Clint swears by it with his own kids. He finds the squeeze jar of organic honey, too, and sets that beside the box. 

“Pick a mug, kiddo,” Bucky tells him, nudging him gently to get him to lift his head from Bucky's shoulder. He isn't clinging quite so desperately anymore, which Bucky figures can only be a good thing. Tony looks up and blinks at the assortment of novelty mugs, a tiny, shy smile tugging at his lips. 

“That one,” Tony says, pointing to a giant, pink monstrosity that looks kind of like a flamingo. Bucky's pretty sure Clint picked that one up from his last trip to the zoo with his kids. Bucky grabs that one and an old, chipped mug with a propaganda poster from WWII for himself. 

“Oh.” Tony's quiet sound and the way he shrinks into Bucky has Bucky turning to look around at the rest of the kitchen. Natasha is by the door, dressed in little more than an old tank top and some tiny shorts. “Sorry, Miss Natasha. I didn't mean to be loud.”

“You weren't,” Natasha says, her voice even and quiet, but not particularly gentle, just honest. “May I join you?” Tony looks a little bewildered by the request and looks up to Bucky.

“She asked you, kid,” Bucky says with a shrug. “Your decision.” 

“Okay,” Tony says with a tiny nod in Natasha's direction. She offers him a thin smile. Bucky grabs a mug for her as well, one that looks like a bright green alien. He busies himself with ripping open the little packages around the tea bags to drop them in each mug. It isn't particularly easy with only one hand, but he'd had lots of practice back when he had no arm for almost six months while Tony was building him a new one. 

“Well, this is certainly domestic,” Natasha says dryly as she takes a seat at the bar. Bucky snorts. She frowns a little. “You...you would make a good father, Yasha.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky asks. He knows he's too bitter and sarcastic, but he can't quite help it. “Because the world at large certainly approves of assassins as fathers. That would go over so well.” He rolls his eyes and grabs the kettle once it clicks.

Natasha is quiet as he pours the water over their mugs. He sets hers in front of her and leans against the counter perpendicular to the bar, Tony still sitting on his hip with his arms tucked into his body and his head still resting on Bucky's chest. 

“What's an assassin?” Tony asks. 

Bucky stiffens, but Natasha answers before he can figure out something that's the truth but also isn't. “An assassin is someone who kills other people, usually for money,” she says. “That is what HYDRA turned Bucky into. He isn't, now. I was once an assassin, too. And Clint. We are not good people, Tony.”

Tony hums softly, and to Bucky's surprise, squirms even closer. “Better n’ Dad, and he was s'posed to be a good guy.” He yawns, a huge sound for such a tiny body to make. Something painful clenches in Bucky's chest.

Natasha smirks at Bucky. “You have your answer, I think.” She plays with the string on her tea bag for a moment, but she doesn't look at Bucky when she continues speaking. “There are all sorts of people in this world who should not be allowed to be parents, who should not be allowed to raise children. You are not one of those people, Yasha, despite what you have done. There are many who would agree with me, especially after seeing the way you've been with Tony these last two days.”

“Doesn't matter,” Bucky says stiffly. “The - the old me that wanted the white fence and two kids is long gone. That sort of thing isn't attainable or sustainable for someone like me.”

“Clint manages it,” Natasha points out. “You could, as well.”

“I'm  _ dangerous _ ,” Bucky hisses. “Ten fucking words, Natalia.” He spits her old name the way she so casually uses the one she'd given him. “Ten words and I lose every part of myself, everything I've fought so fucking hard to become. I'm their puppet again. You  _ know  _ that's why Steve doesn't let me go with you to fight HYDRA. FRIDAY had to run an interference line in my comm the entire time we were getting Tony out of that base, just in case someone knew the words. They say the words, and I'm theirs again. I'll do whatever they tell me to.” 

“T-” Natasha stops herself. “Your mechanic is already working on a solution to that problem. He designed it to work through his own PTSD and other assorted trauma, but he thinks it could help you, as well. Hope is not something I'm familiar with, nor is it something I preach, but have some confidence that we can fix this problem.” She purses her lips tightly. “If the code words weren't in play, would you consider it?”

“Consider what, exactly?” Bucky asks, needing to know what she's fishing for.

“Children,” is her deceptively simple answer.

“Probably not,” Bucky answers. “I'm not prime marriage material over here, and I don't trust anyone enough to let them get that close to me physically.”

“You trust a few people,” she says, giving the boy in his arms a pointed look. “I'm not saying you have to get some woman knocked up, though our egregiously generous benefactor would no doubt find you the best surrogate on the planet. But there are other options.” 

“Adoption agencies are some of those people who don't take kindly to assassins,” Bucky says flatly. He scraps one hand over his stubbled jaw. “Why are we having this conversation, Natasha? Why does it matter? It won't happen. That's the end of it.”

“It isn't,” Natasha says, her voice so perfectly flat that it doesn't  _ sound _ like she's insisting, but she certainly is. “This is something you want. It is something I can't have. I...I am determined to see that you have this, if you want it. You deserve happiness, Yasha. And you would be so terribly good at it.”

Bucky knows trying to lie and say he isn't interested won't work with Natasha. She has the same ability to tell truth from lies as he does. It's instinctual. But he doesn't want to have this conversation, either. 

“Can we talk about this later?” Bucky asks. He's very tired. An hour of sleep isn't much, really, and he hasn't slept well since  _ his  _ Tony went missing. He can go for longer, but he doesn't have to. And he's become so very spoiled here. 

“If we wait, you'll deny me at every turn,” she points out. “It's rather hard to do that when you have a sleeping child in your arms.”

He looks down, and sure enough, Tony has dozed off. He's nod deeply asleep, but he's not awake, either. “I've thought about it, but mostly in the sense that I'll never get what I want,” Bucky admits. “It...it wouldn't be right, not without another person. Not just a kid. I managed you Red Room brats well enough on my own, and there were twelve of you. But I don't want...I don't want to do any of that on my own. Doesn't fit the dream, does it?”

“What would?” Natasha asks quietly. “If you could have everything you wanted, what would you ask for. Tell me, and I'll answer the same.” Natasha offering up silly little things like that never happens, and Bucky knows why. He was there when they were training it out of her. Yet he wants to know, for some morbid reason. He has a feeling his guess is probably spot-on.

“I'd want Tony,” Bucky whispers, unable to look her in the eye. His and Natasha's relationship is complicated, but in many ways, he can be more himself with her than he can with Steve. He doesn't trust her, not exactly, and he never will, but she offers him a sense of freedom he so desperately craves sometimes. “I'd want the older Tony,” he clarifies. “And...and a kid. Nothing else would have to change, not really. The code words would have to be gone, though, and Tony would actually have to be interested in me and...well, everything else. You've heard him, though. He doesn't want kids.”

“He doesn't want to be anything like his father,” Natasha says with a nod. She stands and walks around the counter to pluck their tea bags from their mugs and toss them in the trash. She pours a bit of honey in hers and stirs it. “For the record, though, he’s interested in you.”

“You're telling me what I want to hear,” Bucky says flatly. “You don't have any proof.”

Natasha smirks. “Only that he's constantly staring at your ass when you leave the room.” She takes a sip of tea and then begins to make Tony's and Bucky's. “He's long past forgiving everything with his parents. You know that. He listens to you when you speak, and he never tries to speak over you. The same can't be said for the rest of us. He compromises with Steve because of you. He thinks that if he puts his foot down and refuses Steve solidly on anything, Steve will leave, and you'll go with him.”

“Steve’s a goddamn idiot, and he's been a jackass,” Bucky grumbles. “Jim had a nice long chat with him today about that. We'll see if that fixes anything, but I doubt it. Steve is as hard headed and stubborn as he ever was. Worse, probably.”

Natasha hums quietly. “I suppose it's my turn for secret-sharing.” Bucky nods, grateful to be off the subject of himself. “I want children, too, but we both know that won't happen. I...I want to stop fighting, one day. Maybe soon. I'm not sure. It doesn't seem like I'll ever get the chance. Clint is going to retire soon, go live out his life on his farm with his wife and children. I might go and stay with them for a little while.”

“You have the same options I do,” Bucky points out. “Tony would find you a surrogate, too. Hell, he'd probably figure out cloning if you asked him.”

“It's a pipe dream,” Natasha says with a smirk. “Remember?” 

“Same as mine,” Bucky says with a nod, probably a little too seriously. They both know, too well, that they aren't cut out for that life. Quiet and parenthood aren't for people like them. Natasha isn't  _ quite _ as old as he is, maybe forty or fifty years younger, but she only looks a few years older than he does, and she never spent any time in cryo. Bucky knows he will age eventually, but he won't age like a normal human. He isn't sure he could bear watching his kid grow old and die before him, especially not while he remains youthful-faced. It's too much to ask of them, to ask of anyone, really. They aren't immortal, but they very nearly are. As far as they know, they  _ could _ live forever. The bastard serum in their bodies would simply continue to make new cells, to regenerate anything they lose. Bucky's the only proof that losing an entire limb is permanent, but he knows he's been shot in the head. It didn't hit whatever part of his brain was important enough to keep him alive, though, so he healed, his brain grew back, and he's still fucking alive. 

Tony stirs against his chest, yawning again. He sits up a little and rubs his eyes. “‘s it ready yet?” he asks in a sleepy voice. 

“Yep,” Bucky says. “Should be cool enough to drink now, but be careful just in case, okay?” Tony nods and wraps his tiny hands around the mug before taking a cautious sip. He makes a face at the taste. “It'll help you sleep. It's not the best, but it works.”

Tony nods and obediently takes another sip. “Can we watch more  _ Star Trek _ ?” 

“Sure,” Bucky says. He grabs his own mug and walks slowly to the big lounge area. He sits with Tony still curled against him. Natasha had followed them. She puts her mug on the coffee table and tugs the blanket off the back of the couch before draping it over the both of them. She bends and presses a tender kiss to Tony's forehead. 

“Sleep well, little prince,” she whispers, and then she's gone, mug in hand. 

“Mama used to kiss my forehead,” Tony says quietly as the intro to the episode begins on the TV. “I miss her.”

“I know, kiddo,” Bucky says quietly, rubbing Tony's back. “I'm sorry I can't take you to her.”

“It's nice here, though,” Tony says. “You're nice.”

Bucky smiles, just a little. “Glad you think so.” They relax into the couch and listen to Kirk and Spock talk about fictional science for a while and drink their tea. As Tony drops off to sleep again, Bucky takes his mug and sets them both on the end table before shifting to get a little more comfortable. He winds up on his back with Tony stretched out on top of his chest, the blanket covering them both. It's pleasantly warm, and Bucky finds himself slipping off to sleep right after Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> youre fuckin right i made bucky sing "somewhere over the rainbow"  
> i toyed with "cheek to cheek" for a bit, but i decided "somewhere over the rainbow" was the better choice
> 
> most of this chapter is unrepentant filler and kind-of fluff that just sort of made me happy to write
> 
> enjoy the break ;)


	8. Chapter 8

The next day is harder on everyone. Steve has met up with the team, sans Bucky, and decided to let FRIDAY shut down to repair the damage from HYDRA. They all expect an attack. So Bucky gets Tony clean and dressed, shoves his brand new Bucky bear and the new lego sets and some of the other toys, plus the tablet, into the bag Clint gave them that first day, and he and Tony head to the Hulk room. He'd wanted to go to the lab, but Natasha and Jim were going to stay down there in case they had to do anything manual, and Steve, Sam, and Clint were going to take care of any intruders from the front while Vision and Wanda kept a lookout over the rest of the compound. It wasn't ideal, but it was the best they could do. Cho was due to arrive soon, though, and they wanted her to take a look at Tony before they locked her, Bucky, and Tony in the Hulk room.

Tony wasn't happy. Not at all. But there were no epic meltdown tantrums. He was quiet and sullen, refusing to eat, refusing to speak to anyone and dragging his feet when asked to do anything. Bucky understood, though. He'd told Tony he had to see another doctor, and Tony didn't like it. 

In the end, all Bucky can do is escort Tony, with Jim, down to the medical wing. Jim is going to stay with him while Bucky gets anything they might need for the Hulk room. He doesn't think anyone will be able to break through the special polymer Tony and Dr. Banner invented to contain the actual  _ Hulk _ , but he isn't taking any chances, either. So, while Tony is with Jim and Dr. Cho, Bucky gears up and gathers what he deems necessary for supplies - including an extra pistol for Tony. The kid is smart enough to know how to use a gun, as Bucky had discovered during a rather weird conversation during bath time that morning when Tony started jabbering on about guns, and he figures Tony should have some say in defending himself, too, if it comes down to that. He really hopes it won't, but he isn't the sort of person to take chances like that. Bucky also makes them lunch and packs all they'll need for at least two meals into a cooler. 

By the time Bucky has set up the Hulk room with a mound of blankets and pillows to keep Tony comfortable, his bag of stuff, the cooler, and Bucky's own munitions bag, Tony still isn't finished with Dr. Cho. FRIDAY won't tell him anything more than that, but it's fine. If he needs to know, Jim will tell him. Steve joins him outside of the Hulk room where Bucky is standing sentry, unable to do much else and already slipping too far in his training to pull himself out of it now. 

“Hey, Buck,” Steve greets. He sounds tired and a little defeated. Bucky dips his head in acknowledgment to his Captain, his leader. But the Bucky before Steve isn't his friend. Steve has finally begun to appreciate the difference. “All set in here? Looks cozy.”

“Supplies to keep the child content,” Bucky says, his voice more robotic than usual and his tone clipped. It isn't disrespect. “In addition, munitions for an adequate defense should the enemy penetrate the defensive barrier.”

“Hopefully it won't come to that,” Steve says, his voice a bit stiff and slightly more formal. “Ah, mission parameters, soldier?”

“Defend Tony and Dr. Cho,” Bucky answers. He's reluctant to add the next bit, but he does it anyway. “Non-fatal injuries when possible.” He dislikes that order, doesn't see the need for it the way the others do. They are HYDRA, and they will not hesitate to capture or kill any of them. Why should they show mercy? Only, apparently, they do because ‘we're better than that, Buck.’ Whatever that means. Bucky isn't better than HYDRA. HYDRA  _ made _ him.

“Good,” Steve says with a sharp nod. “Comms on at mission start. FRIDAY will run interference like last time, but we don't know if it will be enough to prevent the triggers from getting through. If that happens, send out an alert. Extreme prejudice against any enemy combatants to ensure Tony's and Helen's safety, then lock yourself in the Hulk room. Understood?”

“Accepted.” He doesn't like it, but he understands these orders. He agrees with these orders. There's little use in protecting the child and the doctor if HYDRA says his trigger words and commands him to kill them anyway. Something of the person he is now filters up through the layers of what HYDRA turned him into, the layers he wears like additional armor. “Explain it to Tony. What I'm like.”

Steve smiles. “I'll have Jim do that,” Steve says. He rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. “Tony doesn't much like me, especially when I'm in my uniform. He won't want to see me.”

“You should leave now, Captain Rogers,” FRIDAY says. “I've relayed your orders to Colonel Rhodes, and he is explaining the situation to Tony now, but they are already enroute. Best be off if you don't want to run into them.” 

“Right,” Steve says with a grimace. He nods to Bucky. “Keep them safe.” Bucky nods once, stiffly. “Team, mission go in five,” he relays through his comm. There's a chorus of acceptance through the comm unit. Steve leaves, then, and Bucky resumes his sentry post for the next two and a half minutes until the colonel comes into the area with the child in his arms and the doctor by his side.

“See, I told you he'd be right here,” the colonel says, sounding only a little exasperated. The child in his arms is clearly in distress, but Bucky doesn't think it has much to do with the stiff-bandage cast on his arm that's held to his chest with a sling. He has tears on his thin face and red eyes and blotchy cheeks. 

“Bucky?” Tony says, his voice thin and high. Bucky nods, thinking acknowledgment would be best right now. “Will you hold me?” The parts of him under his training move to accept the thin child into his hold, a secure and warm embrace, without pausing to question how wise the decision is. He can still fight and protect the child clinging to him, if necessary. “It hurt,” he whispers into Bucky's neck. “It hurt a lot. I cried a lot. I'm sorry. I said I'd be brave, but I wasn't.”

Bucky rubs the child's back to reassure him, but he can't find the words for comfort, not now, not in this mindset. He is aware of the colonel's wary stare as Bucky keys in the ten-digit passcode on the Hulk door and offers his flesh hand to the palm reader. He holds the door open for the doctor, who gives him a nervous smile as she enters the room. That's good, he thinks. She won't be reckless around him, but cautious.

“Rhodes. Status report.” The captain's voice barks at them through their comms. Bucky steps into the Hulk room and closes the door firmly, listening as the locks engage. 

“They're secure, Cap,” the colonel says, still looking at them through the not-glass. “Are you sure this is a good idea, leaving them without anyone else?”

“It's our best option. Bucky has his orders if HYDRA infiltrates and manages to start with his code words and FRIDAY's interference fails.”

“I've already explained, Rogers. We do this, and there is  _ no _ FRIDAY for the duration. She won't be able to run interference, preprogrammed or not. Most of her processes are live, not that you even understand that.” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He must do something with his comm, because the next time he speaks, Bucky only hears him through the not-glass, not from the comm as well. “Listen up, Barnes. You hurt either one of them, and your ass is mine. I'll use the suit to put your ass so far in the ground, they'll have to dig you out somewhere in China.”

“That is preferred,” Bucky says honestly. Even under the shell he’s wearing, he knows he doesn't want to harm the child in his arms. He's too important. 

“You bet your defrosted ass it is,” the colonel grumbles. He turns and stalks over to the elevator. Through the comm, Bucky hears him say, “On my way, Romanov.”

The comms are quiet for a moment, so Bucky turns and walks over to the pile of pillows and blankets. He isn't sure  _ why _ he thought they were so very necessary, only that they were. He's incredibly gentle as he settles the child in the mass and wraps a blanket around his shoulders. He nudges the bag even closer, then unzips it for him after a moment's thought and offers him the tablet.

“It is dangerous,” Bucky says as he offers the child the Smith & Wesson 351C magnum. “Use this to keep yourself safe.” The child uses his free arm to scrub the tears away from his face, and he nods as he takes the gun. Bucky feels a surge of approval as the child checks the safety first, then quickly looks over the rest of the gun. “Light recoil. It should not hurt.”

“I can use this one,” the child says confidently. The doctor makes some sound, but Bucky doesn't concern himself with her for the moment. “Is HYDRA gonna try and get me again?”

“They will try,” Bucky says with a nod. “They will not succeed.” The child smiles at him, a bright, hopeful expression. Bucky kneels and leans forward, then presses a soft kiss to the top of the child's head. His hair smells like coconut. “I will protect you, воробушек*.” Bucky stands and faces the doctor. “What are his injuries? I need to compensate for them.”

“FRIDAY, please ask Jim if Bucky is allowed to have that information,” the doctor says, meeting Bucky's eyes but not giving him what he wants. He doesn't blame her or fight her. She has her own orders, and they both must answer to those above them.

“He says yes, Dr. Cho,” FRIDAY says. “Sergeant Barnes is the only other person besides Miss Potts who knows of little boss’ injuries. However, Colonel Rhodes has just arrived in the workshop. I will not be available for the next several hours.”

“Thank you, FRIDAY,” the doctor says with a slight nod. She tips her head to the side, giving Bucky a considering look. In his comm, he can hear the others begin the mission and FRIDAY accepting the colonel's override code to enter her service mode. 

“I can perform my duties without the information,” Bucky says, standing straight and tall. “But it will be easier if I have it.”

The doctor sighs and nods. She glances at Tony, then, in Korean, she asks if Bucky can understand her. He nods once. He isn't sure how or why he understands, but he does. “I had to perform a rectal exam,” she says miserably. “He's in pain because of it, but there is no...significant damage. Not anymore. His left arm has a hairline fracture, and his shoulder does as well. Jim said he was handcuffed for a long time. That likely caused the damage. He has some burns and scrapes and bruises, as well, but the most significant of those are his bruised ribs. For such a young boy, he's been handling the pain remarkably well. His...his x-rays showed a few previously healed fractures. The kind I was trained to spot in cases of abuse.”

Bucky nods. “Did you give him anything for his pain?” The doctor shakes her head, biting her lip. “Later, then, once the maintenance is over.”

“If he starts crying again because of it -”

“Later,” Bucky insists. “He needs to be able to protect himself, for now, and drugs will interfere with that ability.”

“Hey, you brought my Bucky bear!” comes the child's happy voice. Bucky looks over at the boy and finds him holding a teddy bear with a blue coat and a little domino mask in the crook of his broken arm. “Can I watch  _ Star Trek _ ?” He holds up the tablet and looks at Bucky with large, pleading eyes. Bucky nods, and he’s rewarded with a blinding smile. The child squirms around in the blankets for a moment, flashes of discomfort on his face, but he finally makes himself comfortable in the pile and props the tablet up on the floor using the stand on the back. The doctor sits down near the boy, and they are both quiet as they watch.

Bucky stands guard in front of them at perfect parade rest, not shifting at all as he listens to the brief reports through the comm and watches the elevator and stairwell. He is certain he'll hear anyone coming long before they make it that far, but it gives him something to look at, and he can still see the child and the doctor in the reflective surface of the not-glass.

“HYDRA incoming,” the captain says stiffly. “Two stealth jets.” 

“Engage?” the former pararescue asks. 

“Go,” the captain commands. There are sounds of wind and shooting, and the distant echo of a faint explosion, but nothing major, nothing  _ lasting _ .

“Got one thruster,” the pararescue says. “Jet is landing. Vhiz, Wanda?”

“On it,” the witch says quickly. Bucky lets the noise of the ensuing fade into the background. He's more concerned about the other jet, the one the pararescue has yet to disable. The captain and the archer join the melee once the jet is on the ground. 

“Third jet, incoming!” The archer's shout is rough. Was he injured? Bucky shrugs the thought away. Doesn't matter. He has his orders, and those are to remain where he is and protect the child. 

“Four and five!” the pararescue adds. 

“I've got number six,” the witch says with a grunt. There is a much louder explosion this time, likely the engines combusting. 

“EMP!” someone shouts. Half the comms go dead. 

“Shit,” the Widow mutters. “Sounds like HYDRA really showed up to the party this time. Rhodes?”

“No way,” the colonel shoots back. “I'm not leaving. I have more experience and an actual degree. You go. Take them extra comms.”

“I thought Tony EMP-proofed them last time,” the Widow grumbles. “So what the hell was that?”

“When you find out, then you can tell me. Now get going.”

There's silence, now, but if Bucky focuses his hearing enough, he can make out the distant, faint sounds of a skirmish two floors above him. He doesn't grimace, but it's a near thing. It takes a moment for him to turn down his hearing, and then the turns to face the child and the doctor. The child looks so close to sleep. Bucky hates to ruin that, but he needs them both to be prepared. 

“HYDRA is here,” he says. “They've just gotten inside the building. The others are fighting them.” 

The child looks very afraid. He pushes the tablet away and sits up slowly, his little face pinched with pain as he moves. He picks up the small gun that somehow looks too big in his hands, though it feels tiny in Bucky's hands. He nods to Bucky, even though he is afraid. The child is a marvel. 

“What should we do?” the doctor asks. She looks grim, but mostly unafraid. 

“We wait,” Bucky says simply. He pauses to listen as the Widow gives the others the fresh comm units, and sound explodes in his ear. “The soldiers are enhanced, though not like the captain. They have numbers on their side. The others are taking them down as quickly as they can.” 

“So we’re just supposed to trust in the polymer Dr. Banner invented and hope for the best?” the doctor asks, a little bit outraged. Bucky nods, and she fumes. At least she's quiet about it.

“They won't break through,” the child says as he studies the tablet in his lap. “It's special plastic. It's strong enough to outlast a tank. They can't break that stuff.” He offers the tablet to the doctor, who takes it and studies the screen with a sharp frown. The child looks at Bucky, then at the door. “There's not much stopping them from forcing the locks, though. It might take them a little while, but they could do that faster than they could break this plastic stuff.”

“That's why I'm here,” Bucky says with a nod. “I won't allow them to get through alive.” Damn his promise to the captain. These are enhanced soldiers, not normal humans. If he is to have any hope of taking on several of them at once while still defending the doctor and the child, he'll need to make kill shots. 

The doctor and the child are silent as Bucky listens to the fight over the comms. There isn't much information to be had, though. The team isn't doing much talking. He can only hear various punches and kicks. The sound of the archer's arrows and the Widow's electric shock weapons; the colonel's armor, the witch's magic, the android’s magic, the pararescue’s guns, the captain's shield. 

And then.

“Four heading to the stairs!” 

Bucky tenses, waiting. His gun is in his hand, though he doesn't remember drawing the weapon. It takes thirty seconds for only two of the HYDRA soldiers to burst through the door from the stairwell. Bucky dimly recognizes them, but they aren't important. 

One lifts a hand to tap a comm. “Found them. Sublevel 2.” They grin as they open fire on the not-glass. It holds against the bullets, barely-there nicks and scratches dinging the transparent material. The lack of penetration seems to annoy them. Bucky remains expressionless, his body between the men and the child. One of the men kneels in front of the electronic keypad almost immediately and rips the cover off to get to the wires inside. 

“Might as well come out of there. You know we'll get to you one way or another.” The man speaking is still standing, his useless gun trained on Bucky. Bucky doesn't react at all, not so much as a flinch. The man sneers. “Your buddy Rumlow is on his way down now, you know. He has those handy little code words to keep you in line. He'll make you kill the kid. Brat's more trouble than he's worth.”

“If they begin speaking Russian,” Bucky says to the doctor in Korean, “shoot me. Do not hesitate.” He knows, knows with everything in him, that she won't do it. She isn't the type. 

“What code words?” the child asks. In Italian. Bucky almost raises an eyebrow. He hadn't known the kid could speak more than English. 

Bucky repeats the same orders he gave to the doctor to the child. 

“Why?” Tony asks, once Bucky has finished speaking. 

The HYDRA soldier on the other side of their cage shoots the not-glass again. “Stop talking!” The one kneeling by the keypad curses and jerks his hands away, then sucks lightly on the tips of his fingers. He must have shocked himself. 

“They will make me kill you,” Bucky says, voice robotic. “I will not be able to stop it.”

“But you promised!” the child says - no, wails. Something deep in Bucky's chest aches at the sound. It's a wound, invisible, like a knife stabbing into his heart. The sound of betrayal in such a young voice bleeds.

“I cannot stop them,” Bucky says, still emotionless. He despises HYDRA. Hates them for everything they are and everything they've done to him. “I'm sorry.” Some of the shell he wears like so much armor cracks under the weight of his guilt. He turns to look at Tony. “I would rather die than hurt you, but they will make me do it anyway.”

“No,” Tony says, his little face scrunched in determination. “No! I won't let them!”

Bucky shakes his head, but he can't do or say anything to reassure Tony. He knows better. After seventy goddamn years of torture and conditioning, he  _ knows _ . He's only broken the conditioning once, and that was luck and only a partial break anyhow. He doesn't think he'd be able to do it again. Not even for this little boy he's far too attached to.

“You won't have a choice, brat,” the HYDRA asshat says with a nasty smile. The stairwell door opens a moment later. Two more men enter, and Bucky fights to repress the urge to open the door and murder them all. 

“You haven't killed Stark yet?” the first man to enter is the one who asks the question. He's heavily scarred, but Bucky knows that voice and stance. Rumlow. “Get a fucking move on, morons!”

“I can't get the goddamn door open!” the one kneeling by the keypad snaps. “Keeps fucking shocking me.” 

“Useless, every fucking one of you pieces of shit.” Rumlow shoves the man to the side. He has some sort of battering ram-like contraption on his arm. He slams it into the space with the keypad several times, causing sparks to fly wildly. The locks do not disengage.

“Just use the words, Rumlow,” the fourth man says. “We need to get out of here. Kill the kid and recover the asset. Our orders, remember?”

“Shut up!” Rumlow snaps. He punches the area with the keypad again, creating a dent in the metal supports around the door, but no hole, and the locks remain sealed. Bucky isn't sure they will be able to get out at all now, though it's a simpler process from inside. 

“воробушек,” Rumlow says, his pronunciation off, but the power of the word still effective. It's the first of the series, and Bucky can feel the tingle of it beginning in his brain, the hooks so deeply rooted he thinks they will torment him forever. He stiffens, but he doesn't otherwise react. “pжавый.” The second word heightens the intensity of the feeling, and Bucky feels like fighting. He wants to pace, wants to slam his fist into the not-glass wall until he can break Rumlow's face, but he knows it's useless. 

“Stop!” the kid screams, voice high and so very, very afraid. 

“рассвет.” Rumlow's smile is a cold, cruel thing. Bucky wants to rip it off his face and make him eat it. But he can't move. He's frozen. He's afraid that if he moves, he'll try to attack. He’ll frighten the child even more. He can't. He won't. “Печь. Девять. Доброкачественные.” 

Bucky grabs his head, kneels on the cold floor. He is barely aware of the thin sound that leaks from his throat. A whine, a plea, a scream, all held back. 

“Возвращение домой. Один.”

Bucky jumps to his feet, shouting and punching the not-glass with his metal fist. Rage coursing through his bones. He needs to  _ stop this _ . 

He can't. 

“грузовой вагон.” 

Rumlow smiles. The soldier drops his fist and stands perfectly still, eyes on his new master. “Good morning, soldier.” 

“Ready to comply,” the soldier replies, eyes flat, voice flat, body relaxed and awaiting his next orders.

“Kill the bitch and the brat.” His master's orders cause a woman to shout, a child to scream and plead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cliffhanger hahahah
> 
> also, yes, there is a lot of "the child" and "the doctor" in this one. i KNOW. it was intentional.
> 
> *воробушек means "little sparrow" according to the internet and is, also according to the internet, a fairly common endearment used for little kids


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pretty different style for this chapter. fair warning.

The soldier turns. He pulls a knife from his belt and stalks toward the child. It is laughably easy to disarm him, though the soldier is forced to deflect a shot with his metal hand.

“Bucky!” the child screams, face red and tears on blotchy cheeks. The soldier is unaffected. He has killed children before. The one likely will not be the last. “No! You promised!” His thin, reedy voice cracks with the shrill volume. “You promised you'd never hurt me!” 

“Tony, get away from him!” The woman rushes forward to try and grab the child. The soldier swats her away. She falls and does not stand. 

The soldier kneels and grabs the child by his arm, draws him in closer. Children are so small. Their anatomy is different. He has to be certain he kills this one. 

A whiff of coconut. The child isn't screaming. The soldier pauses. He doesn't know why. 

“You promised,” the boy whispers. In Italian. “You said. You said you'd beat up Captain America for me, ‘cause I was scared of him. You got mad ‘cause Obie hurts me. And Dad. You promised you'd keep me safe.”

“Kill him!” His master is screaming. The soldier knows the price for disobedience. The Chair. 

And yet the other soldiers have not entered the room. The soldier stops. Stands. Turns. The room is a cage. Not glass. Something stronger. They are unable to enter. If they cannot enter, they cannot punish him.

“Soldier!” His master shouts, punching the barrier between them. “I gave you an order!”

“You are not my handler,” the soldier says, more certain of this than anything else in the moment. Pure, potent rage erupts across the man's scarred face. 

Voices are in his ear. Demanding a report. Status. He does not answer. He does not know who they are. 

The child pats his leg. He looks down. “Bucky? Will you hold me? ‘m hurtin’ again.” English, this time. The soldier does not want to touch the child. But his body obeys. Is the child his handler, then? It is not permissible to harm a handler. Perhaps that is why the orders do not work. He cannot disobey.

The soldier kneels and scoops the child close to his chest with his flesh arm. The metal is stronger for fighting and defending. If the child is his handler, he will not allow him to be harmed. 

“Thank you,” the child whispers. He rests his head on the soldier's shoulder. He does not know what to do with touch. It was not permissible. Yet the child has given no other orders. 

“Ready to comply,” he says in Italian. Perhaps that is the correct choice of language for orders. 

“Comply for what?” the child asks, bright brown eyes looking at him with a depth of curiosity that the soldier has never seen before. Not without the intention to hurt, to cause him pain. This is innocence. 

“Orders,” the soldier answers. “What are my orders?” The child is young. Perhaps he does not understand.

He's silent for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip, a lip that is split badly in the center already. “Keep me safe. Don't hurt Dr. Cho. Don't die.”

The soldier nods. Simple enough. He stares at the men on the other side of the barrier passively. They are unable to break into the cage. 

More soldiers come into the room. These are different, more colorful. Not the plain black tac gear and armor. There is more shouting. The soldier rips the comm from his ear and stomps on it. He turns to the side, hiding the child from sight. Something… something tells him to preserve the innocence in his eyes. He doesn't understand. But he rarely does.

He does not watch the fight. He is not interested. The woman on the floor has a cut on her head from when he pushed her, but she is breathing. The child is cold in his arms. He grabs a blanket from the pile and wraps it around his body, covers his head. The child clings tighter. 

“I'm Tony,” he finally whispers. English again. “You aren't Bucky, are you?”

“Who is Bucky?” the soldier asks.

“It's you. The other you. The other you likes me, some. The other you gives me baths and keeps the nightmares away. Makes me food and watches  _ Star Trek _ with me.”

The soldier doesn't reply. He doesn't know how, doesn't know what is expected. The fighting across the barrier has stopped. The other soldiers, the winners, are staring at him. He ignores them.

“Bucky?”

The child pushes the blanket down and twists, with a grimace, to look at the man in blue. The suit of armor beside him retracts its helmet, and another worried face stares at them. 

“He's not Bucky,” the child calls. The soldier turns, nudging the child to shift slowly back to his original position. Cracked ribs, he thinks. A broken arm in a sling. 

“Oh christ,” the man in the armor says faintly, his dark skin paling dramatically. “Tony, did he hurt you?”

The soldier bears his teeth at them.

“No,” Tony says, truthfully. That's surprising. The soldier expects punishment for nearly killing the child. “I told him not to, so he didn't.”

“Soldier.” The woman in the black catsuit calls for him in Russian. “Who is your handler?”

“The child.” His direct answer leaves her with a smirk. 

She relays this information to the others. “He isn't allowed to hurt his handlers. A… safety feature, if you want to call it that. We'll need some time to get them out of there. Tony is safe for now.”

“I'm not risking that,” the one in blue says. He is there leader. He's familiar. It's odd. The soldier doesn't have memories. “You and Rhodes get what you need to get them out of there. I'll stay here.”

“Don't let him hurt me,” the child, Tony?, whispers against the soldier's neck. “He says he won't, but I'm scared.”

The soldier nods. Orders accepted. The woman looks at him thoughtfully. 

“This might take a few hours. Get comfortable. There's food in the cooler. Tony hasn't eaten today.” Then she turns to leave, the man in the armor following behind her after only a moment more of staring at them. 

Their leader gives the others orders. They leave as well. The leader remains, watching them closely. 

“Good afternoon, little boss.” A voice echos above them. The soldier looks around for the source, spots several speakers built into the ceiling. Cameras, as well. “I'm happy to report I've returned and in working order.”

“That's FRIDAY,” Tony tells him. “She's a really smart computer. She's nice.”

“Thanks, little boss. It looks like the Winter Soldier is there with you, now. Are you safe?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tony answers politely. “He's gonna keep me safe. He promised, just like Bucky.”

“I'll hold you to that, soldier,” the voice says. “Little boss looks to be in an elevated state of pain, at the moment. He needs to eat. Dr. Cho has some pain relievers that are safe for him to take once he's eaten.”

“Understood,” the soldier replies. He kneels with Tony on the pile of blankets and pillows. He spares a thought for whoever set this up, and finds himself thankful his tiny handler will not suffer worse. Tony reluctantly releases his hold, and the soldier moves to the cooler several feet away. He finds small boxes of juice and bottles of water, packaged sandwiches and fresh, sliced fruit. He brings over everything he can carry, then returns to the cooler for more, unsure of the amount his handler will need. There's a small container of something else, so the soldier takes that as well before fishing through the woman’s pockets for the medicine the voice mentioned. 

He crouches beside Tony and opens a juice box and a bottle of water for him before opening a sandwich and opening the container of sliced fruit. It all looks to have been thoughtfully prepared for the boy, for someone with tiny hands and the use of only one arm.

“Thanks,” Tony says quietly as he takes the tiny sandwich triangle. “Wanna watch  _ Star Trek _ with me?”

It is not...precisely an order, but the soldier has no reason to say no. He nods and settles against the wall among the pile of pillows and blankets. He finds the tablet Tony requests quietly and offers it to him, and he holds the remainder of Tony's sandwich while he plays a show. The soldier doesn't pay particular attention to what's on the screen, but rather encourages Tony to eat more, and when Tony finally shakes his head against his offers, he reads the label on the small bottle of pills he found on the woman. 

“How many of these are you supposed to take?” the soldier asks Tony, showing him the bottle. Tony shrugs from under the blanket the soldier had carefully draped around his shoulders.

“He should take one every four to six hours as needed,” FRIDAY answers. “It will likely make him sleepy. I will keep a watch on him for any signs of an allergic reaction. He might vomit, or have a stomachache. Try to keep him hydrated if you are able to do so.”

“I'll be okay,” Tony says quietly. “I don't need it.” 

“It will hurt less,” the soldier says with a frown. “You are my handler. Handlers should not suffer pain.”

Tony gives him a sad look, though the soldier doesn't understand why. Yet when he places the small pill in Tony's hand, he puts it in his mouth and uses some water to swallow it. He takes his pillow and puts it on Bucky's thigh, then curls up on his side with his head on the pillow. The soldier remains still. He has never had a handler sleep on him before, but he doesn't think he will be bothered. It takes very little time for Tony to fall into a deep sleep, his breathing slow and even.

“Bucky?” the leader of the other soldiers speaks from the other side of the barrier. The rest have yet to return. 

“That is not my name,” he says coldly, giving the man a flat stare. He dares the man to enter, dares the man to attempt to take his handler from him, especially when his handler is in such a delicate state. Orders were to protect his handler from this man, and he will fight if necessary. Though not to the death. Tony had said he was not allowed to die.

The man gives him a sad look and shakes his head. “How's Tony doing? Is he okay? I know his appointment with the doctor this morning was rough on him.”

“He has a broken arm and bruised ribs,” the soldier reports. “I do not know what else.” He curls a protective hand around Tony's shoulder. “He is sleeping.”

“Yeah, you uh, you're taking good care of him.” The man looks sad again. The soldier does not care. “Can...can I ask why? And why do you think Tony is - is your handler?”

“He said I made a promise,” the soldier answers. “And when the HYDRA agent gave me orders to kill him, I was unable to fulfill them. It is not permitted to harm handlers. The only logical conclusion is that the child is my handler.”

The man says nothing more, so the soldier returns his attention to the child. He is still asleep, still breathing deeply. He remains unmoving, even when the others arrive with machines to free them from the cage. The soldier places one hand over Tony's ear to protect him from the noise. Quite possibly, it is only loud to him. He doesn't know. Best not to risk it. 

It takes a little over two hours for them to remove the door from the cage. The woman in the black suit enters, hands on display. The soldier recognizes her as a Black Widow, though, and he knows not to trust such a deceptive stance. She does not come close to them, merely checks on the doctor on the floor. Another man enters to assist her in carrying the doctor away. They place her on a stretcher before taking her into the elevator. 

The man from the armor enters next. He remains at a safe distance, though the soldier is not comfortable with his presence. “You aren't going to let me take Tony, are you?” The soldier shakes his head. “Fine. Pick him up and follow me. We'll get you two to a room while we figure out what to do. Someone else will grab the rest of this stuff later.”

The soldier nods. A room, even an unfurnished one, would be more secure and more comfortable for his handler. He wraps the child more securely in the blanket draped over him, then rests him against his chest, using one hand to support his weight.

The child stirs. “Wan’ Bucky bear.” The soldier looks around, confused by the request. 

“He means the teddy bear,” the man from the armor says. “It's on the floor with the rest of the pillows. I'll grab it.” He inches forward slowly. The soldier backs away, with plenty of space between himself and the wall to aid in an easy escape if necessary. The man does nothing more than fish around in the blankets and pillows for a moment until he finds a stuffed animal with a blue coat and a black mask. He offers it out, arm extended. The soldier hesitates for only a moment before walking close enough to take it, then he tucks it against Tony's chest as he backs away. 

“Everyone needs to clear out,” the man says. He is obviously used to command. The other commander gives him a strange, stiff look, but he eventually acquiesces and moves back to one of the far walls. The soldier does not move. “Leave, Captain. He won't go anywhere until he thinks it's safe to move Tony.” 

It takes another moment of a silent showdown between the two before the captain storms off toward the stairs. The soldier will not allow the man near his handler. The other man turns to face him.

“Do you remember who I am?” he asks. The soldier shakes his head. That isn't uncommon for him, though others, he  _ remembers _ \- and isn't that such a strange sensation - often find it frustrating. “My name is Colonel James Rhodes. I'm technically Tony's caretaker. I understand that he's your handler right now, though, so I'm not going to take him from you. What are your orders from him?”

“Keep Tony safe. Don't hurt Dr. Cho. Don't die. Don't let the captain hurt him.” The soldier repeats the orders perfectly. “I...promised.” It's a novel feeling,  _ promising _ protection rather than receiving orders to do so. 

“Good,” Rhodes says with a sharp nod. “Follow me. I'll take you to a secure room. The elevator -”

“No,” the soldier growls, his arm tightening around Tony. “No elevators.”

Rhodes stares at him for a long moment. “All right. Stairs it is. Let's go.” The soldier follows silently. He's already pocketed the small bottle of pills for Tony. Hopefully there will be access to water in this room so his handler may have more when he has need of them. 

They climb five flights of stairs. The Widow is on this floor, as is another man, but they do not attempt to follow Rhodes and the soldier into the room he is led to. The room is plain, but not unfurnished. There is no kitchen. 

“The bedroom is down the hall. There's a bed with clean linens and a bathroom. We'll drop by with Tony's things and a change of clothes for you. We're going to ask that you surrender your weapons.”

The soldier is annoyed by this, but ultimately unsurprised. “I will keep two knives,” he says. It is not a request. Rhodes doesn't try to argue, simply nods his acceptance after a moment of hesitation. 

“We are going to lock you in,” Rhodes tells him. Again, unsurprising. “I will come in, but no one else. And I'll have FRIDAY give you an alert first. I'm asking nicely. Don't stab me, please.” The soldier nods. Those are acceptable conditions. “Any idea how long you're going to stay in soldier-mode?”

The soldier doesn't want to answer, but he knows better. “Recalibration and maintenance required after seventy-two hours once the code words have been used. With the application of the chair, the time may be extended to as much as 500 hours.” 

Rhodes nods. “We can handle that. I'll bring clothes and toys and food. Sound good?” 

“Accepted,” the soldier says, not seeing any other choice. Once Rhodes is gone, he takes Tony to the bedroom and leaves him bundled in the blanket before adding the additional layers. He stands sentry by the door, waiting for the colonel's return. 

It takes nearly two hours but he returns, as promised, with everything he said he would bring. The food is still hot. The soldier takes everything to the bedroom and gently wakes Tony for a bite or two, makes him drink, then lets him sleep more. The soldier changes into the jeans and shirt brought for him and leaves all his weapons but for the two knives in a neat pile by the door. The next time he leaves the bedroom, the pile is gone. The soldier has done similar missions before, he thinks - guarding people. It is simple and easy. He finds himself curious about the child in the bed, but he does not wake him. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter alert

“Bucky isn't letting anyone near Tony right now,” Steve says, exasperated and annoyed and so damn  _ tired _ . “What makes you think he'll let Helen in to look at him? Or bring him down to the medical wing where the checkup would go a lot easier.”

“Tony's health is a priority for him,” Natasha says in her cool, emotionless way. Nothing seems to bother her or get under her skin. And fuck, but sometimes Steve wishes he had that ability. It's been over twenty-four hours now, and the Winter Soldier programming is still in total control of his best friend. He doesn't like it when Bucky uses his training during missions, but this? This he  _ hates _ . “He will agree to it as long as he feels he has some measure of control over the situation. Helen says she needs to see Tony. We've agreed not to enter the room they're in to keep the soldier complacent. FRIDAY says he's done nothing but obey Tony's every request. And he's  _ asking _ , not demanding. For a five-year-old, he's incredibly perceptive. I asked FRIDAY if Tony has given the soldier any further orders, and he hasn't.”

“And what if Bucky doesn't feel like he has a choice right now?” Steve asks, agonized over the possibility.

“That's likely true,” Natasha says with a shrug, “but he has told Tony ‘no’ on a few occasions. Like when Tony asked for a second bowl of ice cream or when he tried to weasel his way out of a bath. The soldier sat him in the tub fully clothed. I have the video saved if you want to see it?” Steve waves that away. He doesn't care. Natasha sighs. “Two more days, Steve, and he should come back to himself. Cognitive recalibration works, sure, but are you really willing to fight him again to get a chance to try and knock him out? Do you want to scare Tony?”

“No, that's not...not an option.” He wishes it was, but it isn't. He scrubs his hands over his face in frustration. “I don't like seeing him like this. He isn't himself.”

“He is,” Natasha says bluntly. “He's just...what HYDRA made him, also. Your friend is still in there. You'd know that if you just watched the way he interacted with Tony. He's kind to him, plays with him, even asks him questions. About science. Tony loves the attention and the approval, and the soldier is in a place, now, where he isn't being punished for once in his entire experience. The soldier is a mindset, Steve, not a different person. I know you want to think it is, but that isn't how this works. He may not have all his memories, but that's another aspect of the conditioning. He was trained to forget everything else, to focus only on his mission. His mission right now is to keep Tony safe. Let him just...be. Exist. He is only a danger to those who he thinks are a threat to his handler or his mission.”

“And I am,” Steve says bitterly. “Because Tony is afraid of me.”

“That's...that's on Howard,” Natasha says slowly, trying out the words. “You haven't done anything to Tony for him to fear you, but that sort of ingrained fear response doesn't vanish overnight. The Tony we know was able to grow up, to grow out of that irrational fear, to recognize Howard's threat as empty. This Tony is a child. He may be incredibly intelligent, but he is still only a child, and he will have a child's reaction to fear.”

“I just want my best friend back,” Steve says quietly. “And I don't want Helen to get hurt if she tries to go in that room and touch Tony. I don't want to have to fight him again, but I will.”

“That's why you're going to leave these negotiations up to me,” Natasha says firmly. “I knew him when he was like this, first. He trained me, remember?” Steve nods unhappily. “And I'm going to escort Helen. Other than you, or Rhodes with his suit, I'm the best choice. I can defend her, protect her.” She shifts in her chair. “I don't really think it'll be necessary, though.”

“Fine,” Steve says. He stands. “You do your thing. I'm… I'm going to go beat up a bag for a while. Good luck.” 

Natasha watches him go, eyes steady. She thinks this is less than ideal. Steve still refuses to accept that the Winter Soldier training is just as much a part of Barnes as her Black Widow training is a part of her. Their skillset is markedly different, but their indoctrination was eerily similar, despite their age difference. She was so very young, and Barnes was already an adult, but HYDRA isn't particularly creative once they have a method that works. Steve needs to learn to accept all of Barnes, and soon, or he is going to lose him like he lost Tony. 

She wonders, idly, if Steve even knows he's lost Tony. His trust, his friendship. They are acquaintances, sometimes teammates. Tony allows Steve to remain simply because he is terrified of the consequences of asking him to leave. Steve doesn't see it - refuses to open his eyes and look at the signs flashing right in front of him. Maybe he doesn't know how to read them. But it isn't her job to hold his hand through this. Either Steve figures his shit out or he doesn't. She will not leave Tony, not now. 

“FRIDAY, will you set up a direct line between the soldier and me?” she asks, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. “Audio only is fine.”

“Of course,” FRIDAY says. “You're connected.”

“Yasha,” Natasha greets, allowing a bit of warmth to seep into her voice. She can hear the sharp intake of breath and she smiles. So he remembers, then. A few things, anyway. “I've got a request.”

“What?” the soldier asks. He is...not quite her Yasha. Her Yasha had been free of the code words and the chair for a long while when he was sent to train her and the other Widows. He began to develop his own personality within a month, and he was very nearly human rather than robotic by the time they took him away four years later. But Natasha remembers him from the beginning. She was twelve, at the time, and he was her idol. HYDRAs best. He might very well still be her idol. She doesn't know.

“Dr. Cho, the woman who was in the Hulk room with you and Tony, she needs to see him again. It's not something that can wait.” It is, really, but if she makes it seem more important than it is, the soldier will be more likely to agree. 

“What is wrong with him?” the soldier asks, voice chilled but not hostile. 

“I don't know,” Natasha admits. “I'm not someone who is allowed to know those things.” She takes a slow, even breath. “Dr. Cho would like an escort, as well, and I've offered to go with her. We can come to your room, or you can bring Tony to the medical wing.”

“No labs,” the soldier says, his voice hollow yet dark. “Do it here. Only you and the doctor. No one else.”

“What about Rhodes?” Natasha tries. She knows before he answers what he will say, but she has to say she tried.

“No.”

“Very well. Tell Tony. We'll be up in an hour.” She signals for FRIDAY to end the connection. “FRIDAY, please let Dr. Cho know that she needs to gather what she can to examine Tony in his room.” 

“Already done, Miss Romanov,” FRIDAY answers. “If I might add, the soldier has been taking good care of little boss.”

“I know,” Natasha says with a small smile for one of FRIDAY's cameras. “Try to make Steve understand that, would you?” Natasha stands without a grimace, though the pain in her left thigh radiates up into her hip and all the way down to her foot. She'd taken a bullet during the fighting, and Helen hadn't had a chance to remove it until hours later. Her own brand of serum is more similar to that of the enhanced soldiers they were fighting yesterday than anything like Bucky's or Steve’s, so she still has a few weeks, or more, of pain and healing. Clint knows, but she didn't see a reason to trouble anyone else with it. 

As she makes her way to the assassins’ floor she shares with Clint and Bucky, she wonders what Tony's reaction to all this will be once he's himself again. Will he remember any of it? She almost hopes he will, if only so he can see how much Bucky cares for him, even in such an altered state. Then again, perhaps it's best to get only the highlights from FRIDAY and the rest of the team. It doesn't matter right now, though. Whether or not he remembers will be something to deal with later. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last one  
> & the longest, i think

On the third day after the HYDRA attack, Bucky comes back to himself and Stephen Strange arrives at the compound with Wong in tow to, hopefully, change Tony back to his actual age. The entire team wants to be present, but after an hour-long debate in their so-called ‘war room,’ Jim and Pepper make the executive decision to allow only Jim, Pepper, Bucky, Strange, and Wong to be present. Everyone else is relegated to a common area to wait for the results, with FRIDAY granted permission to give them periodic updates. 

Bucky is still a little...stuck in the Winter Soldier mindset. He doesn't want to let Tony leave his sight. Tony doesn't seem to mind, at least, and Jim doesn't question it, though Pepper gives him an odd look. Strange doesn't act like he cares, but every time Wong looks at Bucky, he feels like Wong can see straight through him. 

In the end, it isn't a very exciting process. Bucky sits on the couch beside Tony and leaves a blanket draped over his shoulders, but he doesn't touch him as instructed. Strange and Wong make a complex, glowing mandala in the air before shoving it forward to settle over the frightened five-year-old. Bucky wants nothing more than to hold the poor kid and reassure him, to let him hide away, to whisper that everything will be okay. He isn't allowed, though, and he is forced to watch as Tony suffers an anxiety attack right beside him. 

And yet, the results are nearly instantaneous. There is a bright, golden flash, and the five-year-old Tony is gone. Their Tony, the older Tony, is sitting in his place, the ratty blanket as his only covering. Whatever happened to the little red tee shirt with the green dinosaur he'd had on, and the jeans, they're gone now.

Jim and Pepper don't rush Tony, though that's a near thing, probably. Tony looks drunk or high as he blinks and stares at them all for a long, long time. Then he cracks a joke about being naked in a room full of people, and Pepper smiles and brushes away her tears as Jim rolls his eyes and shakes his head. Bucky...Bucky slinks away as they approach. 

He doesn't know what happens after that. He doesn't care. He's on full lockdown mode in the safety of his room. He'd tried to leave after he discovered he'd been triggered into the Winter Soldier mindset, but little Tony had cried, and so he hasn't been able to deal with that self-loathing and guilt just yet. He doesn't ask about Tony, doesn't ask about the others, tells FRIDAY to stop allowing anyone to contact him after Steve tries for the third time, and he...he sleeps. He mourns. 

He'd made so much progress, he'd thought. He hadn't slipped and accidentally hurt anyone in months. He hadn't overreacted to Clint dropping in on him from the vents to startle him. He hadn't had so much as a panic attack. And yet now he's back at square one. 

He has to wonder if it's all worth it to start again. 

Maybe he can't die in any sort of normal way, but there is always cryo. As much as he'd hated it, he knows he wouldn't be able to hurt anyone else. He'd hurt Helen without so much as a thought as to who she was, and he hadn't felt guilty for it later, not while he was still trapped in that mindset. He'd mistaken a  _ child _ as his fucking handler. He'll never not be grateful that he'd been unable to harm Tony, but...he isn't sure he can forgive himself for what he'd almost done. 

The nightmares feature him wrenching back Tony's head and slicing his throat open from ear to ear. 

Bucky doesn't eat for two and a half days. He's gone longer, of course, but he's been spoiled by regular meals, and the gnawing hole in his stomach complains at him, makes him nauseous and gives him a headache, makes him break things in fits of irrational anger toward himself and everyone else. 

Why the fuck had they locked him in the Hulk room with Tony in the first place? That was the stupidest idea! He could have killed Tony. He almost did! 

There are three holes in the wall of his bedroom. The end table is broken, and the lamp has been shattered. He wants to shake Steve and Rhodes and demand to know why they let him do that, why they agreed to such a terrible plan. 

He's certain Tony will ask him to leave. Soon. He's terrified of the idea, but he knows he deserves far worse. He might ask for cryo, instead. Let them lock him away in suspended animation. If Tony refuses, and he might - should - then Bucky will leave again. He liked Bucharest, for the year he was there, hiding. Maybe he can find another place like that, somewhere else to blend in and hide and never let anyone find him again. Why should Tony allow him to remain, even in cryo? He doesn't deserve that kindness. 

Bucky has been locked in his room for nearly three days when he hears the door to the suite open. That's...odd. He sits up in his bed, blanket draped over his bare shoulders. He's in a pair of old, loose gym shorts and nothing else. He didn't see the point in bothering after he’d showered for over an hour in an attempt to feel more human. It hadn't worked. He hadn't lifted the lockdown order with FRIDAY, though, and Jim and Tony are the only two people who are able to override the order. The only exception is if he's under attack or physical hurting himself or someone else, and neither of those are the case. 

He doesn't get up to investigate, though. He's hoping whoever it is will see the mess he made of the coffee table and leave. He doesn't want to deal with anyone right now. Why should he have to? He feels awful enough. 

Unless. 

Unless Tony has come to tell him to pack his things. 

Bucky doesn't move, but he listens to the careful footsteps out in the living area, the way they stop to take in the sight of the damage, the even placement and careful balance as they continue. It could be Tony. Or it could be Jim. He doesn't know, really. The steps come closer, though, and Bucky realizes he's nearly stopped breathing as the person stands on the other side of his bedroom door. 

Two light knocks, and then the door opens anyway. “Bucky?” Tony's voice sounds...wonderful, and so very painful. He takes a step into the room as his eyes find Bucky's. There's a pause where Tony takes a moment to absorb the damage to the room. “Redecorating I see. Love what you've done with the place.”

Bucky just nods. So that's how things will be, then. He understands. He shoves the blanket away and stands. Tony doesn't say anything as Bucky stalks to the closet and drags his packed backpack from the back. He...he's never been able to let go of the idea of a packed bag. How can he? He knew this was never going to be permanent, and he never knew how much time he'd be allowed to have to gather what few belongings he possesses. The newest edition to the bag is one he'd been unable to resist, though. Attached to the outside of the bag with extra straps is the Bucky bear Tony had been so desperately attached to as a five-year-old. Bucky wanted to keep it. A talisman, of sorts. The bear had brought the kid comfort, so maybe it could bring him comfort as well, once he was alone and terrified. 

“I'll dress and leave,” Bucky says, voice scratchy from disuse over the last three days. He doesn't look at Tony. Can't see the look of - whatever it might be. Satisfaction. Pity. Sadness. Relief. He doesn't know, but he doesn't want to see it.

“Where are you going to go?” Tony asks. His voice is painfully neutral. Bucky clenches his metal hand over and over. He should...he should offer to give it back before he leaves. It isn't his. Life will be significantly harder without it, but he can manage, he's sure. Even one-armed, he’s still an assassin, still a goddamn super soldier. 

Bucky shrugs in answer. “Western Europe, probably. Blend in better, there.” He takes the bag to the dresser and sets it on top. He can't quite resist rubbing his hand over the soft, artificial fur. The gray beaded eyes stare back at him from behind the silly mask. He isn't sure what expression the bear is supposed to have, but it doesn't look particularly happy. That's fine, though. It suits him. 

“How long are you planning on staying?” Tony asks. “You'll still need maintenance on your arm. Not to mention, Cap hates it when we aren't here for his ridiculous team building exercises.” He pauses for a moment, though Bucky has no answer for him. “And, you know, I had something I wanted to talk to you about. But, well. Seems like you're in a hurry to leave.”

“You can have the arm back,” Bucky offers, subdued and quiet. It is a sacrifice he will have to live with. “And...I'll tell Steve not to expect me back.”

“Can I ask why?” Tony asks after a moment of pause. He doesn't sound judgmental, only curious. 

How can he not understand? How does he not  _ get it _ ? Bucky knows he isn't welcome here anymore. Does Tony really need the satisfaction of telling him so in person? That seems needlessly cruel in a way Tony just...isn't. 

Bucky can't help but clench and unclench his fist rapidly, listening to the soothing sound the arm makes as it moves and shifts. “I - I have to,” Bucky chokes out. “I can't stay here. Not after what I did. So I'll just - I'll leave, before anyone has to kick me out. It's best that way.”

“No.” 

Bucky jerks his head up to stare at Tony. His expression is grim, but not angry. “Tony, you don't have to let me stay here. I - I don't deserve it.”

“Bullshit.” Tony's hissed retort makes Bucky blink in surprise. Tony's  _ angry _ . “I don't know what the fuck you're trying punish yourself for, but that ends  _ now _ . You know what you did, Bucky? You played babysitter to a hyper-intelligent five year old for a week solid. You protected me from HYDRA. You fought the fucking Winter Soldier programming to protect me. Fuck knows why, but I'm grateful, okay? I don't remember everything, but I had FRIDAY give me the highlights, and then some details over the last few days. I thought you just needed some quiet time after putting up with a brat like me for a week, but if you've honestly been in here fucking torturing yourself with guilt, then that ends here and now.”

Bucky has no idea how he's supposed to respond to that. What does Tony  _ mean _ , he's grateful? Grateful for what, exactly? That Bucky very nearly killed him, but he didn't? That he placed a fucking toddler in the role of his handler because that mindset HYDRA drilled into him didn't know any other way to handle the situation? That he was mostly bored and uninterested in the things the five-year-old version of the man before him wanted to do or play with, so he'd simply sat in silence to keep watch and nodded along to pretend he was listening? That he was so ridiculously overwhelmed and out of his depth that he didn't know how to approach the child with anything more than questions about what he wanted to eat? Bucky knows Natasha was wrong, at any rate. He'd make a terrible father. He never wants to repeat that experience. 

“If you really think running away is going to make you feel better about all this, then by all means, go. I don't have the right to stop you. But I don't think it's the right call.” Tony shoves his hands in his pockets and gives Bucky a long, silent look. “I came here to thank you. For everything you did when I was stuck like that. I couldn't tell you why I latched onto you, but you stepped up.”

“It...it was the right thing to do,” Bucky says, once again feeling so far out of his depth he doesn't know how to handle himself. 

“Maybe,” Tony shrugs. “You could have shoved me off on Rhodey and Pepper. They'd have handled things.” 

Bucky doesn't know how to explain that no, he really couldn't have, so he stays silent. He remembers making a promise to himself to tell Tony exactly what he felt about the man, but now that he's presented with the opportunity, he isn't sure he can.

Tony sighs heavily. “Whatever, Barnes. Enjoy your trip. FRIDAY will make sure you have whatever you need when you get where you're going. Just call her private line. She'll even keep your location a secret, if you want her to. That's part of the reason I gave you the level-four code, you know? Figured you'd want to pull a Houdini on us sooner or later. Thought I could at least make it easier and offer you a way to call for backup if HYDRA ever finds you again.” Tony gives Bucky one last, long look, then turns on his heel. 

He doesn't get through the door before Bucky stops him.

“I don't want to leave,” Bucky says quietly. “I just - I thought -” He grunts in frustration. Translating everything he's feeling into words isn't easy. “I'm always going to have those triggers in my head. I'm always going to be a liability. I'm - I'm not safe. I shouldn't stay here. I almost killed you, and you were just a fucking kid.”

“But you didn't,” Tony says, voice resolute but tired. He doesn't sound like Steve always does when Steve tries to convince him that everything he did as the Winter Soldier wasn't his fault. This is different. More personal, maybe. “You didn't, and instead, you took care of that little kid version of me. The code words are a risk, yes, but we all agreed a long time ago that it was worth it. And, you know, if you'd just - if you'd stuck around, I could have fixed that. I've been working on a way around them. But like I said, I won't keep you here. Leaving is your choice.”

That's another difference, Bucky thinks. Steve would fight tooth and nail to force Bucky to stay, to claim he wasn't thinking right, wasn't in his right mind, whatever argument he could get away with. He'd do anything to make Bucky stay, even if Bucky didn't want to. Tony offers him freedom like it doesn't hurt him to do it, but Bucky can see how deeply it cuts Tony. Choice, freedom, personal accountability - those things are far more important to people like Tony and Bucky (and Natasha and Clint) than Steve will ever understand. 

“You don't...think I should leave?” Bucky asks hesitantly. 

Tony huffs a short, bitter laugh. “It doesn't matter what I think or what I want. This is about what  _ you _ choose.” He takes his hands from his pockets. “I just wanted to stop by and thank you, let you know that I know you got dumped with a lot of shit you didn't expect to deal with, but you handled it damn well, all things considered. I'm sorry about all the trouble that mess caused.” He steps forward and offers Bucky his hand. A final handshake. A goodbye.

Bucky squeezes Tony's hand gently with his own - the flesh hand. But he doesn't shake it. He doesn't let go after just a second or two of contact. Instead, he steps closer to Tony as he tugs Tony closer to him. Tony looks surprised, but not alarmed. Bucky brings his metal hand up to cradle Tony's cheek, his fingers stroking over the edge of Tony's fussy goatee. Tony looks like he's about to ask what Bucky's doing, so Bucky drags his other hand up to Tony's jaw as well and holds Tony in place - delicately, gently - and kisses him. 

Tony freezes for only a half a second before he melts into Bucky's kiss. His mouth parts to deepen it, and Bucky is surprised when he feels Tony's arms wrapped around his waist. They're suddenly pressed together, nearly chest-to-chest, with barely enough room between them to even kiss. And yet Tony only tries to step closer as one of Bucky's hands slides around to the back of Tony's neck. 

He nips gently at Tony's bottom lip and licks away the sting. Tony's hand finds its way into Bucky's hair, and he tugs gently as he licks into Bucky's mouth. Bucky’s other hand winds up pressed into the perfect dip in the arch of Tony’s back, pulling him even closer. It’s...too good to give up, really. Bucky never wants it to end. But it’s probably still goodbye. He won’t allow himself to hope for anything more, not where Tony is concerned. Never. He’s already taken too much from then man, and too many people have betrayed his trust. Bucky never wants to do that, but he already ranks among those regardless, and he’ll never forgive himself for that. But he’ll take this moment, this little slice of peace, and he’ll enjoy this kiss, this precious moment Tony’s allowing him to have, and he’ll treasure it.

The kiss ends too soon, and Bucky is more than a little disappointed when Tony pulls away enough to look at Bucky’s face. “Not that that wasn’t great, but can I ask what it was all about? I mean, if you’re after a quick fuck, I’d… probably still stay yes.” He shrugs honestly, even while Bucky valiantly tries not to choke on his own spit. “I’d like to know ahead of time, though. Seems the polite thing to do. Always knew what the expectations were before getting into anything with anyone else.”

“Been…” Bucky swallows hard and tries a second time. “I've, um, wanted to do that for a long time.” He thinks back to that disaster of a conversation with Natasha as the pads of his metal fingers trail over Tony's skin. The texture isn't perfect, but his skin is warm and just a little flushed, and Bucky marvels that he can feel that sort of thing at all. “Sort of made a promise to myself that I’d...at least tell you about that. Once you were back.”

Tony's smile is soft and just a little flirty. “Well, practical demonstrations are a pretty great way to get my attention, if nothing else. But you didn't quite answer my question there, Frozone.” He deliberately takes a step back to separate them. “I mean. You told me  _ why  _ you kissed me, and that's all well and good. Appreciated, actually. But you didn’t say what it was for. Is that some kind of goodbye thing you're doing before you vanish off the face of the planet?”

“It should be,” Bucky answers, raw and open and honest. He looks down at the floor. “I...I don't want to leave, though. I've become pretty spoiled and complacent here. Not that - not that I couldn't handle being without all this stuff, but I…” He frowns hard. “ I don't want to have to leave. I thought I should. Still think that.”

“Then don't leave,” Tony says, like that's the most simple thing in the entire world. “I told you - I have a way to get rid of what the code words do to you. It won't be a walk in the park, and it might take a couple months for the final result, but it should work. I'm actually about ninety-seven percent positive it will work, so you've got some pretty good odds.” He studies Bucky for a brief moment. “You know you're probably the least spoiled person on the entire compound, right? You think basic human decency is kindness when it's just how things should be.”

“Like you've got any room to talk,” Bucky fires right back. “I might be grateful for a warm spot to sleep and a blanket at night, but you're the one thanking me for pretending to be interested in theoretical space physics for the last week to keep a five-year-old version of you happy. Rather than, I don't know, just ignoring you and leaving you alone.”

“Yeah, well, I know my expectations for human decency are pretty goddamn low,” Tony says, more wry than insulted or upset. “FRIDAY gave me a rundown of all the brat blabbed about, so I'm guessing you know why I think I have a pretty good excuse for believing that.” Bucky nods, a small frown on his face. Tony rolls his eyes. “I get that everything was very bad and traumatic for the kid, but it's been over forty years since then for me, so I've had more than enough time to deal with all that shit.”

“You mean the way I deal with my problems?” Bucky asks, raising his eyebrows challengingly. Tony grimaces. “Yeah, thought so. We tried to keep the fallout to as few people as possible, but Steve knows some of it. Have FRIDAY show you Jim giving Steve the worst dressing-down that little shithead has ever gotten.” 

Tony laughs. “I'll do that. Absolutely. But first, I have to check to make sure, here. Are you staying?”

Bucky freezes. Slowly, he nods, but he's waiting for punishment or orders to grab his things and get out for daring to hope. He still thinks it's a mistake, but dammit, he'll be around Tony as he makes it. The restlessness inside him settled once Tony came into his room. And maybe, with the way Tony responded to that kiss, maybe Bucky can spend what time he has left  _ with  _ Tony. He won't ever get his little pipe dream, but he doesn't need it. He does want Tony, though.

“Good.” Tony comes close again and wraps one hand around the back of Bucky's neck. His movements are just slow enough and just deliberate enough that Bucky doesn't tense and freeze. Instead, when Tony tugs him down, Bucky goes willingly, fitting both hands at Tony's hips. The next kiss is more tender than the last, sweeter. Bucky smiles into it, just a little, then breaks it only to kiss Tony's forehead. Tony scrunches his nose up a little, then takes a moment to look around at the room. 

“Come on. Let's get you some food. I'll get some people in here to fix up your room.”

Bucky flushes, embarrassed by the mess. “I'm, um, I'm sorry. About all this.” 

Tony waves away his apology. “Nah, don't worry about it. I've done worse. Come on.” He takes Bucky's hand in his own and tugs him out of the room. Bucky trails along behind him, his chest a little tight at the feeling of Tony's callous-rough hand fitting so perfectly in his own. 

They head to the Dark Brotherhood kitchen and Tony wanders around for a moment, collecting things to make sandwiches. Bucky kicks his own ass in gear after just a moment and begins to help assemble the sandwiches, making up a rather large pile of them. Tony grabs drinks and chips to go with it, and he even finds some fresh fruit, as well. They don't talk, but it's nice, sharing the silence. When they've finished, they take their spoils to the big lounge area and sit on the couch, shoulder to shoulder.

“So, you mentioned something about Rhodey yelling at Steve? What was all that about?” Tony grabs a sandwich and takes a bite. 

“Um.” Bucky frowns hard. He remembers Jim's warning from that day, that Tony wouldn't appreciate them knowing everything. The thought of lying to Tony to keep things peaceful and nice crosses his mind, he won't deny it, but he dismisses it just as quickly. He hadn't lied to kid-Tony, and he won't lie to adult-Tony either. He sighs and takes a long drink of water first. 

“You were scared of Steve.” Bucky grimaces. “Well, not Steve. Captain America. You… you said Howard had a lot to do with that. Mostly we just kept him away from you, but I had to talk to Steve about what was going on with FRIDAY and the HYDRA moles, and you wouldn't stay with Clint or Sam or Jim or anyone else. You insisted on coming with me, even when you knew who I was going to see and talk to. It… didn't really go so well.”

Bucky takes a deep breath, but he can't look at Tony as he continues. He does realize, belatedly, that Natasha was right. Tony never interrupts him. He wonders why.

“Steve tried to tell you he'd never hurt a kid, but… but you said Howard would make him hurt you worse than… worse than Stane.” Bucky swallows hard at Tony's sharp inhale. “You said Peggy and Fury both knew and never did anything to stop it. You didn't… you didn't say anything specific, but well. I think Steve got the gist. And I know about Stane. Jim told me, ‘cause I was the one lookin’ after you.”

“Well that's fun,” Tony says, voice hollow and brittle. “No fucking wonder Steve's avoiding me. I take it the others don't know?” Bucky shakes his head, then finally works up the nerve to look over at Tony. Tony rubs his hands over his face roughly. “Good. Don't… don't need them treating me any different.”

“Pretty sure Nat figured it out,” Bucky says honestly. “Don't know how. I didn't say anything to her. But she has ways.” He shrugs. Tony just nods in acceptance, staring blankly at the carpet. “I'm… I'm sorry, for whatever that's worth. I - I couldn't just make you stop talking, though. It wasn't right. No - no one had listened before, and I - I knew I couldn't do anything to change it, not now, but I could at least  _ listen _ .” He slots his fingers together and twists them, desperately hoping Tony won't be angry with him. 

“No,” Tony says quietly, and Bucky's heart sinks for a moment. “You - you did the right thing.” Tony shifts for a moment. “Sorry - this.” He makes a frustrated sound. “This is a lot to deal with.” 

“I can't - can't imagine,” Bucky says quietly. He lifts his hand to rest it on Tony's knee, but Tony flinches badly away from the touch. Bucky is quick to snatch his hand away, but the damage has been done. “I'm sorry, Tony.”

“Fuck this,” Tony mutters. He stands and laces his fingers together behind his neck as he paces around the lounge. “God, why the fuck would you even bother with me?” He drops his arms and crosses them over his chest instead. “Jesus Christ, I can't deal with this right now.” 

Bucky jumps to his feet as Tony tries to walk away. He's careful as he catches Tony's wrist. “Please don't leave,” Bucky says quietly. Tony doesn't say anything at first. “I could ask you the same question, you know. You saw what I did to my room. And that was because of guilt over something I  _ almost  _ did. You know exactly what I've done, Tony. Can't see why you let me be here at all, much less why you let me kiss you.”

“That's easy,” Tony says with a thin laugh. “You have a fantastic ass, and you aren't nearly the bad guy you try to make yourself out to be. If we're gonna compare kill counts, frosty, I've got you beat. You know that.” 

Bucky can't help but smile a little at that, just as Tony turns to glance at him. Even if it hadn't quite been intentional, it must have been the right thing to do. Tony smiles back, and then he steps closer to Bucky. 

“God, we're a mess, aren't we?” 

“Yeah,” Bucky says softly. He rubs his thumb over the pulse point in Tony's wrist. “But that's not a bad thing, I don't think.” He steps closer and kisses Tony, and this time, Tony doesn't flinch away. It's like the last one, sweet and gentle - almost chaste. 

“Oh, good.” Bucky breaks the kiss and looks up at Natasha, who is standing in the doorway with a smirk on her face. “Get busy, then, and start making pretty babies. Tony, I'm sure you can figure out how to make that work.” 

Tony laughs, loud and open and cheerful. “I'll get back to you on that,” Tony drawls. He tips his head up to Bucky and claims another kiss. “Don't see why we can't go ahead and try now, though,” he adds with a devious little smirk. 

“Aw, look, he's blushing,” Natasha teases with a soft laugh of her own. Bucky flips her off behind Tony's back. “Take it to the bedroom, boys. Don't need to traumatize anyone.” 

“Traumatize who how?” 

Steve’s voice makes Tony tense up in Bucky's arms. Bucky rubs one hand down Tony's back in the same gesture he'd used to calm kid-Tony. At least Tony isn't trying to pull away and put distance between them. Bucky's grateful for that as Steve comes into the room and his eyebrows go up to his hairline when he takes in the sight of Tony wrapped in Bucky's arms.

“Oh, you know,” Tony says, trying to sound casual. “My usual brand of pissing everyone off.” 

“Oh, like every time you open your mouth?” Steve's joke falls flat, and Tony shoots him a shark's smile, full of teeth and the hurt he's buried. Steve seems to notice that it wasn't taken well, but he doesn't apologize. He clears his throat and stares at them pointedly. “So, um, what's - what's going on?”

“I was just about to send them off to fuck in private,” Natasha says, voice flat but a little smirk playing at her lips for Tony's benefit. Steve stiffens noticeably, and Natasha turns her gaze on him. “Something wrong?”

“Buck…” Steve says slowly, quietly, as if Bucky is particularly stupid. “Are - is she serious?” Bucky only nods. Steve frowns. “You sure that's a good idea? I mean… Tony…”

“Tony what?” Tony asks, voice biting and bitter. 

“You aren't Bucky's type,” Steve says, his voice cold and hard. Bucky feels like he's been punched in the gut. 

Natasha opens her mouth to say something, but Bucky holds up his hand. “No, I wanna hear what Stevie has to say. Why isn't Tony my type?” How would Steve know, anyway? He'd never told Steve he liked men, not that he remembers. But Tony fits his “type” for men damn-near perfectly. 

“He doesn't exactly do committed relationships, and you don't need someone who’s going to spend one night with you and then pretend it never happened.” 

Tony grimaces. “In case you hadn't noticed, Cap, I don't do that anymore. Won't lie and say I never did, and I'm pretty sure even Bucky here knows about my manwhore days. Not that I blame you for not keeping up with what's current in my life, but I haven't fucked around since I got back from Afghanistan. Trust issues, you know?” He waves that away, like it isn't important, but Bucky knows it is. He tightens his hand where it's resting on Tony's hip, needing Tony to feel the slightest reassurance he can give without speaking. 

“And you really think going after Bucky now is the right thing to do?” Steve challenges. “You aren't exactly the most stable person on the team, and Bucky needs -”

“Bucky gets to make his own goddamn decisions about what he wants,” Tony snarls. 

“I'm not saying he doesn't!” Steve shouts back. “But you aren't good for him! I won't sit by and watch you fuck around with him and leave him behind the next day.”

Honestly, Bucky could fucking punch Steve right now. But he's already self-destroyed one room, he doesn't want to ruin another. “You ever gonna ask me what I want, then?” Bucky challenges. “Because you haven't so far.”

“I won't this time,” Steve says, unrepentant. It's like a slap in the face, it's so damn insulting. Bucky has no clue what he's done to warrant being treated like a fucking  _ child _ , but he knows he has to do something about this. “I know him better than you do, Buck. Tony - Tony's not a good guy. He doesn't know how to make a relationship work. All he knows how to do is use people and leave them behind.”

“Fuck you,” Bucky starts, but Tony cuts him off.

“Are you seriously slutshaming me for being a victim of child  _ rape _ ?” 

Tony's outraged question leaves the room in dead silence. Tony himself looks shocked to have said something like that out loud, and Bucky has to wonder if he's ever admitted it before. Steve looks pissed but pale, like he never considered the implications of what sort of abuse Tony might have suffered at Stane's hands as a child. Bucky doubts he did. Natasha's expression is perfectly blank, and Bucky knows his is the same. He won't guess what might be going through her mind, but Bucky is enraged. 

“Fuck you, Steve,” Bucky says quietly. “Get out. Get out, now. Before I beat your ass for what you just said.” 

“I didn't -” 

It astounds Bucky that Steve is  _ still  _ trying to argue, even now. He squeezes Tony closer to prevent himself from going after Steve. 

“I don't give a single shit,” Bucky says. “Leave.” He looks at Natasha, and she nods. It takes her less than a second to cross the room to grab Steve and get his arm behind his back. He doesn't fight her as she frog marches him from the room. 

Tony is shaking in Bucky's arms. “Christ. I - I really just said that, didn't I?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says softly. “Yeah, you did. It's okay, Tony.” He doesn't know what else to say, isn't sure how to fix this.

“You, uh,” Tony slips out of Bucky's arms and crosses his own over himself as he paces away. “You should probably go - go check on Steve. Or something. I'll go… down to my ‘shop. I still have a lot of stuff to -”

“Please don't,” Bucky says quietly. “Don't leave. Don't push me away.” Tony stops pacing, but he doesn't look at Bucky. “You try so fuckin’ hard to fix everything and everyone around you, Tony. Let… let me help to try and fix you. Please.” He isn't sure he can, really. Doesn't even know where to begin. But he wants to try to make this right. 

“You can't,” Tony says quietly. He's so certain, so absolutely positive. “You can't, don't you get that? It's - it's a waste of time. Nothing can fix… me. Any of this.” He gestures vaguely to himself, but he still doesn't look at Bucky. “Ask Pepper. Ask Rhodey. Fuck knows they've tried. I just end up ruining them, too. It's - it's fucking contagious. That's how bad my damage is, Bucky. Look at Pepper. At JAR- I mean, Vision. It'll only break you, too.”

“Good thing I'm already broken, then,” Bucky says quietly. He inches closer, makes sure he's in Tony's line of sight, then telegraphs every movement as he reaches for Tony. Tony doesn't try to move away, and he doesn't flinch. Bucky wraps his arms around Tony and pulls him to his chest, just holding him close. “Can't do any worse to me than what HYDRA has already done, Tony. I won't - won't be mad, though, if you change your mind. If you don't want any of this. I'll understand.”

“How can  _ you _ still want this?” Tony whispers into Bucky's chest. “I promise, I'm worse than Steve implied back there.”

“Don't care,” Bucky says resolutely. “I want you anyway. Have for a while now, like I said before. Just didn't have the balls to do anything about it.” He rubs Tony's back slowly, trying to comfort him. It seems to work, as Tony relaxes into Bucky's hold. “You're a damn fine man, Tony Stark. I… I'd be thrilled to call you mine, if you'd let me, if you'd be okay with that.”

“Only if I get to do the same,” Tony says quietly. His arms finally wrap around Bucky in return. “And, you know, if you promise to at least come ask me about any of the shit Steve spews at you before you start believing it. I'm not exactly in the habit of lying about things.” 

“Steve’s gonna have a lot to answer for before he gets to have any chance of speaking to me like a friend again,” Bucky says bitterly. “I thought maybe Jim got through to him, but I was wrong. Not really surprised, but I'd hoped. Maybe Nat will have better luck. I won't hold my breath, though.”

“Well, I haven't exactly been on speaking terms with Steve in a long -”

“Sorry for interruptin’, boss, but Colonel Rhodes is requesting a meeting.” FRIDAY doesn't particularly sound apologetic, but Bucky doesn't blame her, either. He doesn't want to talk about Steve anymore. “He wants everyone to gather in Conference room 2b.” 

“We're on the way,” Tony says with a tired sigh. He looks up at Bucky before pulling away. “How are we doing this, Elsa?”

“However you want to,” Bucky says honestly. “Doesn't matter to me if they know or not.” Tony nods and steps away, but then he links his arm with Bucky's. Bucky tries for a small smile, is pretty sure he succeeds, and they make their way down the hall. He doesn't have to steer Tony toward the stairs, at least, because Tony is already headed for them. 

They aren't the last to enter the conference room, but Natasha and Steve are the only two missing. The eyebrows around the table go up when they see Bucky and Tony arm-in-arm, but no one has anything negative to say. Clint and Jim make a teasing comment, Wanda, surprisingly, offers some words of support and comfort, and Vision smiles for them. When Natasha and Steve enter at last, Steve sits silently at the end of the table, as far from Bucky and Tony as he can get. He doesn't look at them or say a word. Natasha sits on Tony's other side and offers him a small smile. 

Jim stands and claps to get everyone's attention. “Now that things have settled down a bit and Tony has managed to dig through FRIDAY's system himself and get caught up on what's happened, I figured it was time for an update. Tony?”

Tony doesn't stand, but he doesn't need to in order to conduct the room. “HYDRA didn't get much from FRIDAY. They wound up in a partitioned section I designed specifically for intruders. It attracts them and traps them. They got some old stuff, but it isn't anything useful or up-to-date, and most of it is public record or easily accessible anyhow.”

“Good to know,” Jim says with a nod. “We've been trying to track down where the HYDRA guy with the magic powers is, too, but no luck on our end. I've got Strange keeping an eye out. Hopefully,  one of us will spot him before he manages to do anymore damage.”

“Wanda and I were wondering if we could be of some assistance in that area,” Vision says. “We might go to the base we found Tony at and try to pick up traces of his magical signature. It should make it easier for us to track him down and locate him.”

“Yeah, we'll get that set up,” Jim says with a nod. “Thanks for offering. I appreciate it. We've gotten word about two other locations that might also be HYDRA, but only one of them looks promising. Small location, shouldn't be too hard to infiltrate. We'll figure out a mission objective and plan once we have a little bit more information.”

“Anything else?” Clint asks. 

“Be careful,” Jim says slowly. “The magic guy is still on the loose and we have no idea where he might be or what all he can do. We only just got Tony back to the way he's supposed to be. I'm not up for more babysitting duty, not for any of you.”

“Fair enough,” Clint says with a broad shrug. “Cooper wants me to take him to a baseball game this afternoon, so can I go?”

“Go, go,” Jim says, waving him away. “Might as well dismiss everyone. I just needed to make sure everyone heard the same message at the same time.”

“Thanks, Rhodey,” Tony says with a soft sigh. “I'll get back to the ‘shop soon and see if I can trace the hackers back, see where they were trying to send any information.” 

“Get some rest first,” Sam says. “That can wait. Barnes, make sure your man there gets a few hours of sleep before he tries to go back to work.”

“I'll do my best,” Bucky says solemnly. It makes Sam shake his head, but Wanda giggles. “Come on, doll, let's go.” He stands and offers a hand to Tony to pull him from his chair. Tony accepts and smiles as Bucky tucks him into his chest and drapes one arm around him. They leave without a single word to Steve. 

Bucky hopes Steve can work his shit out sooner rather than later, but he won't hold his breath.

In the meantime, he has a beautiful, genius man he very much wants to take to bed. He kisses Tony's hair. “Your room, or a guest room? Mine is still trashed.”

“Mine,” Tony says with a smile. “Might as well, right?” 

“Might as well,” Bucky agrees, bending to capture Tony's lips in a kiss.

  
  
  


THE FUCKING END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maybe?  
> obviously the overarching conflict with the hydra magic dude isn't resolved.  
> i have....ideas....for more  
> but whether or not i write it? well. we'll see what happens, i guess.  
> let me know if you liked this dumpster fire fic.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the much asked-for and long-awaited sequel: introducing de-aged Bucky!  
> Bucky gets hit by the mysterious Hydra Magic Guy (who really needs a name by now, don't you think?) and he's de-aged like Tony was. Only he isn't transformed into a 5 year old. No, Bucky's 19. And 19 year old Bucky really, really likes Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long chapter is long  
> not edited for shit, either (that's not an invitation to critique anything, tho - i don't have the heart for it right now)  
> also, additional warning: there are a metric FUCK TON of cheesy ass pick up lines  
> there's some discussion of tony's past, but it's all stuff that was covered in canon, i think, so nothing too surprising there  
> we get a tiny glimpse of what bucky & tony were like in the couple of months before these shenanigans happened  
> steve is still a dick
> 
> sorry it took so long to get written and published. its actually been done for like, two days now. but im a teacher, and trying to write this fic,  
> my next longfic, AND the other dozen or so wips i keep on rotation, plus working ~60 hr weeks is kind of a nightmare. so you get things when you get them. that said, i DO have at least two more parts to this fic i want to write. one is steve-centric, the other is nat-centric. 
> 
> enough note. have fun reading. i hope you laugh as much as i made my girlfriend laugh when sending her cheesy as fuck pick up lines.

“If I said you had a nice body, would you hold it against me?”

Several groans accompany the cheesy pick up line. Clint, naturally, is the worst of the offenders: he's loud and obnoxious. Wanda giggles, hiding her mouth behind one hand and turning her eyes on Tony. Steve just sighs, dragging one hand down his face.

Tony looks over at the nineteen-year-old version of Bucky currently lounging on his couch and giving Tony a half-lidded stare, then looks back at Steve. They still aren't getting along, not really, but these are extenuating circumstances, and Tony is nothing but professional when he needs to be.

“Was he always like this?” Tony asks. He pours himself a drink over by the bar and pointedly ignores the young - so fucking _young_ \- version of Bucky standing and stalking over to the bar to lean on the dark wooden surface across from Tony.

“Yes,” Steve sighs.

“Hey, doll,” Bucky drawls, catching Tony's attention again. Joke’s on Bucky, though. He's had Tony's attention since Steve and Natasha and Clint brought him into the compound. Even several pounds skinnier and with shorter hair, Tony had known it was Bucky in a heartbeat. Clint had taken Bucky up to one of the empty rooms on the assassin's floor and made him shower and change, but ever since he'd come downstairs, he'd been fucking _insufferable_ with his cheesy ass pick up lines. For Tony. Only for Tony.

“Hey,” Tony says neutrally. God, Tony feels like a dirty old man. He's such a fucking pervert. Bucky is _nineteen_ , and all Tony wants to do is bend him over the closest surface. Hell, the fucking wall would work. He can't let Bucky know that, though.

“Wanna make me a drink, too? I dropped mine when I saw you.”

“Oh, god, make it stop!” Clint shouts dramatically. “Bucky, my dude, you're _killing_ me. You're killing your friend!”

“Y’ ain't dead yet, archer boy,” Bucky says, flashing Clint a quick smirk. “Besides, gorgeous over here looks like he needs a good dance partner?” At least Bucky says this part like a question.

Tony sighs softly. “I've already got one, hot stuff.” It's so fucking endearing to see Bucky's face fall into a sad, but troubled frown. “No harm done.” Tony does fix Bucky a drink, figures it can't hurt.

“Yeah, _him_ ,” Clint shouts, pointing at Bucky. Bucky's eyes shoot straight up to his hairline as he looks at Clint, then over to Tony. “That's what's so _bad_. The lines, man. The lines are awful, but they're so unnecessary!”

“Clint, you idiot,” Natasha murmurs. She raises her voice a little so Bucky can hear her. “You were de-aged. Think of it like time travel. We know the older version of you.”

“That why Stevie over there looks like he got inflated like a damn balloon?” Bucky asks with a wry smile. Steve flushes pink. “‘S okay, Stevie, I knew it was you. Not that you seemed real eager to tell me.”

“We didn't know how much you remembered,” Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck. He looks properly chastised, but Tony doubts it. He's probably just sorry he got called out on his stupid act. “Look, Buck -”

“So, this is the future, huh?” Bucky asks, taking the time to look around the room. “Sure seemed real different.” He looks at Tony and a downright wicked smile curves at his lips. “And you're my fella? Damn, I got lucky.”

“Listen,” Tony says, trying to be gentle, “you're not - not the same, right now. And I'm not going to do anything with the nineteen-year-old version of the man I'm currently fucking. Sorry, kiddo. That's not my style.”

Bucky's face falls, but not for long. He takes a sip of his drink and rallies himself, then smiles at Tony. “That's all right. I won you over once, right? Figure I got a pretty good shot at doin’ it again.”

Tony sighs, Clint groans, Wanda outright cackles like the Wicked Witch of the West, and even Rhodey laughs.

“He's got you there, Tones,” Rhodey says.

“I hate you all,” Tony says flatly.

“But this is so funny!” Wanda says. “I've never seen Bucky like this before. He's always so stoic and silent.” She makes a serious face to mimic the Bucky they know. “I can't wait until Peter gets here!”

“Is Peter still coming today?” Vision asks politely.

“Who’s Peter?” Bucky stage-whispers to Clint.

“Oh, that's Tony's kid,” Clint says with a lazy wave from where he's stretched out along the back of the couch. Bucky's eyebrows shoot straight up as he snaps his head over in Tony's direction.

Tony pinches the bridge of his nose. “He's not my kid,” he says, his voice stiff. It's damn hard to keep a neutral tone.

“I dunno, _daddy_ ,” Bucky says, a smirk at his lips and a light, flirty, tone, “you look like you’d be good at making babies.”

Tony actually chokes on his drink. He hasn't choked on a drink in _years_. Decades! Rhodey comes over to smack his back a few hard times, only a little bit of a grimace on his face. Steve is covering his face with both hands and pacing over to a corner. Natasha has a horrible smile on her face. Clint has rolled himself to the couch cushions to bury his head under a throw pillow. Wanda is by Bucky's side, now, clinging to his arm to keep herself upright because she's laughing so hard. Vision is his usual patient, stoic self, and Tony really, truly does love him for that at this moment.

“No more,” Tony says, pointing at Bucky. “Please spare me the inevitable heart attack you're going to cause. I'm an old man with a heart condition.”

Rhodey rolls his eyes. “Tony, extremis fixed your heart. Don't use that as an excuse.” He smacks Tony's shoulder a few times, and it might look brotherly to anyone else, but Tony knows it for the warning it is. “I'm sure you can keep it in your pants until Strange gets here.”

“FRIDAY, do we have an update on Strange's ETA?” Steve asks immediately.

“Still an hour out, Captain,” FRIDAY answers. She doesn't sound apologetic at all, the traitor. Tony is seriously going to rip apart her personality later and fix all her buggy flaws. He means it this time.

Tony takes another drink and actually manages to get it down this time. “Look,” he says slowly, patiently, “Bucky, why don't you go hang out with Steve for a while? He can get you some food or something while we wait for Strange to get here to… fix all this.”

Bucky frowns a bit, but he nods. “Yeah, all right, if you really don't want me around.”

“It's not about that,” Tony says immediately, guilt filling his gut and squirming unpleasantly. “I - I honestly.” He sighs and offers the young - too fucking young - Bucky a small smile. “I sort of love seeing you like this. It's nice. But the Bucky I know is a lot different, and Steve has really missed you. More than you can imagine, I think. You don't have to leave or anything. In fact, I don't want you to leave the compound at all. But why don't you go spend some time with him, huh? He can answer any questions you have, and he'll get to spend time with his old friend. It's a win-win situation.”

“So long as I can still see you, too, old man,” Bucky says with a flirty smirk.

Tony smiles again, though it's a little flat. “Sure. You two go cook dinner for everyone, and we'll have team dinner.” He looks around at everyone who is assembled in the living room. The only person missing is Sam, who’s down in medical getting some stitches in his leg and his sprained wrist taken care of. “Sound good?”

“Sounds great,” Wanda says with a smile. “I can help. Come on, the kitchen is this way.” She links her arm with Bucky's and drags him out of the living room. Bucky grins at her, but he looks over his shoulder to give Tony a heated look just before they vanish around the corner. Steve gives Tony an unreadable look before following them. Vision floats through a wall at Wanda's shout for him to come as well.

Tony sags against the bar once they're gone. “He's gonna kill me, Rhodey,” he whines.

“Don't be such a baby,” Natasha says, too cheerfully for someone who shows so little emotion most of the time. “I think it's adorable.”

Clint sits up again, finally, and leans over the back of the couch to look at them. “It really is, man. I mean, his pick up lines are the cheesiest things I've ever heard in my life, but it's still cute.” Clint shrugs broadly at Tony's flat look. “Look, I'm just saying. It's pretty cool to get to see how Bucky used to be when he was that age. Getting to see the Bucky Steve is always harping on about is interesting. And, you know, this is prime blackmail material.”

“How can you blackmail him with this if we're all seeing it?” Rhodey asks with a raised eyebrow. He grabs the bottle Tony just took a drink from and pours himself a glass, then offers the bottle back. Tony can't exactly get drunk like he used to anymore, so even drinking the entire bottle won't do much for him.

Clint grins wickedly. “I have my ways.”

“He has an Instagram,” Natasha says, rolling her eyes as she shoves Clint’s head down against the back cushions. “He'll just record himself using those godawful pick up lines to Bucky and post them.”

“That's actually pretty good,” Rhodey admits with a shrug.

Tony makes an offended noise in the back of his throat. “That's cruel, platypus. I thought you _liked_ Bucky.”

“I do,” Rhodey says, holding up his hands in surrender. “But I still think it would be hilarious.” He looks over at Clint. “You gotta let me follow that account.”

“Absolutely,” Clint says with a sharp laugh. “I've got some really good stuff on there already.”

“It's juvenile,” Natasha sighs. “Not that that's a surprise.”

“Hey!” Clint shouts, trying to sound offended. The rest of them laugh, just a little.

* * *

 

“So, what happened to you, anyway?” Bucky asks Steve as they walk through the halls to reach the big kitchen on the second floor. “You certainly don't look like a scrawny kid with asthma anymore.”

Steve laughs, just a little. “I'm really not.” He rubs the side of his neck a little. “After you got drafted, I was - I was real mad I couldn't go, too. Kept trying to get in anyway. Then you got shipped off, and I met this doctor. Erskine. He had this formula, and Howard Stark had a machine to - I don't know, activate it, or something. It turned me into this. A super soldier, they called me.” He flushes pink. “I became Captain America.”

“Captain America, huh?” Bucky asks, looking Steve up and down. “Guess I can see that. What, they put you in some tights and a fancy costume or somethin’? You're blushin’ mighty hard there, Stevie.”

“Yes!” Wanda crows. Bucky laughs delightedly at that. “I’ll show you the pictures later,” she promises, leaning in close. Vision gives her a smile, but Steve just feels a little weird about it. He knows Vision and Wanda have been dancing around each other in some weird romance thing he doesn't quite understand. How can Vision stand to watch Wanda hang all over Bucky?

“Sounds swell,” Bucky says cheerfully. “Can’t make fun of Stevie well enough if I don't have all the evidence.” Wanda snickers into Bucky's shoulder. She's very much the sort of girl Bucky would have gone for, back when he really was this age. Small and cute, innocent. His heart aches for them both. How different things could have been for them both, even with Bucky in the present, if only Bucky didn't dislike Wanda for her past association with HYDRA and her magic. And if he wasn't with Tony, of course. That thought sours Steve's mood.

“Did you eat a lemon?” Bucky asks, smacking the back of his hand into Steve's arm. He winces and shakes the sting out of his palm, but he doesn't comment on how badly that probably hurt. “What's got you so sour, puss?”

Steve cracks a smile. That was an old line, one he hasn't heard since even before Bucky went off to basic. “Nothing,” Steve says, shaking his head. “The food is real different these days, Buck. I can't wait for you to try it.”

“Sure,” Bucky says with an easy nod. They turn another corner and find themselves in the kitchen. Bucky's eyes go wide at the sight. “Woah.”

“Might want to let us work the appliances,” Steve says with a grin. “It's not the same as it used to be.” He walks into the kitchen and points at the microwave. “Took me forever how to figure out how to work one of these.”

“That's cause you were shit with technology,” Bucky says with an unrepentant grin. Wanda laughs beside him. He looks at her. “Well, chick, show me how all this fancy stuff works. We’ll get dinner made for all these folks.”

“Oh, the microwave is easy,” Wanda says with a wave. “Just open the door and put something inside, hit the buttons for how long you want to cook it, and press start. You just can't put metal in it, or it will explode.”

“Well, that sounds like fun,” Bucky says, his eyebrows raised high. “Maybe later, then, huh, sugar?” He gently steps away from her and wanders around slowly, eventually turning to face them both. “So, what are we cooking?”

Steve lets Wanda chat Bucky through their options, with Vision offering some suggestions as well. The three of them begin to assemble ingredients along the counter, and Bucky shows off his skill with a knife and cutting board. Steve had forgotten Bucky knew how to do that, even back then.

“So, Stevie,” Bucky says conversationally. Steve cringes a bit. He knows that tone too well. Wanda and Vision are over by the stove as Wanda shows Vision how to make a roux - whatever that is. “You seem to have a problem with me an’ Tony.” He glances up at Steve quickly, then looks back down at the pile of onions he's dicing. “And yeah, I know I ain't the one he's sweet on, that's the other me, but you didn't seem real happy about that, neither.”

Steve sighs and hunches over the bar. “Tony -” He stops and chews on his lip for a moment. “Tony's not a good person.” He grimaces and remembers everything Natasha had said a few months ago, right after Tony was back to his original self. “Well, he wasn't. I guess that was a long time ago. And, yeah, it wasn't entirely his fault. Took me a while to understand that, and I'm - I'm still struggling with it.”

“You never did learn to look past first impressions,” Bucky says bluntly. Steve can only reply with a wry smile. God, Bucky understands him so _well_. “He doesn't seem so bad to me. The other me sure must like him. That Sam guy on the fancy plane said Tony would fix everything. Everyone else seems to like him just fine.” Bucky shrugs. “So, what's your problem with him, then?”

Steve is quiet for a long time. He doesn't know how to answer that question, not to _this_ Bucky, this Bucky who doesn't know who Tony is or what Tony has done. How does he explain it?

“Tony -” Steve stops and makes a frustrated noise.

“Don't hurt yourself,” Bucky says with a smirk. Steve flips him off, which makes Bucky laugh, loud and carefree. It's a sound Steve hasn't heard in too damn long. “Just spit it out.”

“He's got more money than God,” Steve starts. “And - he, well. He _used_ to make weapons. That's how he got rich. Weapons that killed a lot of people. Big bombs like you wouldn't believe, Buck. He was abducted, though, in Afghanistan, and held as a prisoner for three months. The guys that had him wanted him to make more weapons for them, but he didn't. He built himself a suit of armor and blasted his way out, killed a bunch of them. Then his - I don't know, his godfather or mentor or something. That guy betrayed Tony. Tried to kill him. That guy died. And there was the stuff with Killian and this stuff called extremis that was turning people into living bombs. Tony invited terrorists to his house on live tv and they blew it up. He almost got himself and Pepper, his girlfriend at the time, killed.

“And there was the mess with Loki. These people, called the World Security Council, they tried to send a bomb to New York to kill a bunch of aliens. But the bomb would have killed a lot of innocent people, too. Tony flew it into space and saved everyone. Later, though, he built this evil robot thing called ULTRON that tried to destroy the whole world.”

“You can't blame Tony alone for that,” Wanda says, her voice sad but unyielding. “That - part of that was my fault.” She lifts her hand and looks at Bucky. Red magic sparks around her fingers. “I have magic. I made him see his worst fears. He saw all his friends die, and Steve blamed him for everything. Tony felt he _had_ to build ULTRON, otherwise he knew he was going to fail.” She gives Bucky a sad smile. “I was not a good person, either. But I changed, and Tony forgave me. That's what he does. He forgives people and gives them a second chance.”

“Or more,” Vision adds with his own sad smile. “Mr. Stark is incredibly generous. He has seen some of the very worst in this world, has had some of the worst happen to him, and yet, he remains a very good person at his core. Even before he became Iron Man, he often spent much of his time and energy and money developing his intelli-crops for third world countries so they could survive and sustain themselves. Stark Enterprises, as it was known back then, was one of the leading names in medical technology, as well. Despite his fame and wealth, he often donated more to charity than anyone else.”

Steve grimaces. He's gotten real tired of everyone talking Tony up like this around him. “Well, he still built those helicarriers for SHIELD that almost killed millions of people.”

“Should I remind you that you worked for SHIELD at the time?” Vision asks softly. “You trusted them, as well, and Mr. Stark was simply fulfilling a contract. He has continued to do so for various branches of the military. Arnim Zola's algorithm was the true enemy, Captain Rogers, not the helicarriers. Mr. Stark did not design that, nor did he have any part in designing the weapons aboard those helicarriers. In fact, Mr. Stark only designed the repulsor engines.”

“And he didn't build ULTRON alone,” Wanda says. “Dr. Banner helped him, and the staff…” She shudders lightly. “It wasn't sentient, not like Vision. But it isn't passive, either. It helped, just as much as they did.”

Bucky is silent the entire time, taking in all the information with a wrinkle between his eyebrows. He looks over at Steve. “Anything else to add?”

“He keeps taking advantage of you,” Steve says unhappily. “You - the Bucky we know isn't _you_ . You're different. So different. And I _know_ the real you, _this_ you, is still in there somewhere. But he won't help you. He just keeps holding you back.”

Bucky frowns sharply, and to Steve's surprise, so does Wanda. “I've already told you, Steve, Bucky's mind is staying the way it is. There is no more damage to repair. He isn't going to go back to being _this_ Bucky simply because you want him to. HYDRA changed him too much.”

“Wait, who's HYDRA?” Bucky asks.

“They were a secret science division for Hitler’s army back in world war two,” Steve says. “Their leader was Johann Schmidt. He had a version of the super soldier serum, too, but it made him a monster. He called himself Red Skull. They - they.” Steve's throat closes, and he feels tears burning. “We, the Howlies, we were on a mission. Trying to find Zola. You - fell. From a train in the Alps. You must have fallen miles down into the ravine. No one knew they'd experimented on you while you were a prisoner in Azzano. They'd given you the serum, too. You lived through the fall, but we didn't know.” He looks up at Bucky and swallows hard. “I swear, Buck, we didn't _know_.” He looks down at the counter again and twists his fingers together. “HYDRA found you. You'd, ah, lost your arm. They brainwashed you, gave you a new arm, and made you their assassin.” Steve can't continue, can't talk about all the horrible shit HYDRA forced Bucky to do for them.

“They made you kill Mr. Stark's parents,” Vision says gently. “Among others.”

“Only, Steve knew about that for a year, and he didn't tell Tony,” Wanda says, shooting Steve a dirty look. Steve’s pretty sure he'll never hear the end of that one. “Tony and Steve never really got along perfectly, mostly because they both have very strong personalities. But that was a betrayal for Tony. He doesn't blame you,” she puts her hand on Bucky's shoulder and rubs it gently, “but it took some time for the two of you to get along. The Bucky we know is… quiet. Very reserved. He thinks he is a monster for the things he was forced to do, though he isn't.”

“So why the fuck are Tony and the other me stepping out, then?” Bucky asks faintly. “That's - that seems like a lot.”

Vision smiles, then. “Because Mr. Stark was recently deaged, as well, and the other you, as you put it, cared for him while he was stuck as a five year old for several days. The other you has a series of words that trigger a… rather unusual response. It makes him follow orders. HYDRA used that, along with erasing his memories, to control him and make him do as they said. According to everything we've found, he still managed to fight it off occasionally, and it took nearly twenty years to force him into that compliance in the first place. However. HYDRA broke into the compound and used the code words in an attempt to kill the young Mr. Stark. The other Bucky fought the conditioning just enough to name the young Mr. Stark as his handler instead, thus rendering the code words ineffective.”

“It all sort of became official, after that,” Wanda says thoughtfully, “but I know Bucky liked Tony for a long time before that happened, and I think Tony did, too. Tony's just much better at hiding how he feels.”

Bucky nods slowly, then looks at Steve. “I get that a lot of stuff got left out of that little history lesson,” he says, “but that still doesn't tell me why you don't like Tony. Seems to me he's a real jam-up guy.”

“He - he's using you,” Steve tries. “The other you.” He slouches miserably. “I didn't think the old you would like him so much. He's such a cocky -”

“Only makes me like him more,” Bucky quips with a smirk. Steve can't quite help the wobbly smile he offers in return. “Lay off the guy, Stevie. Don't sound to me like you're bein’ fair. And I think if the other me lived through all that shit, he can decide who he wants to go dancin’ with.”

“It's not dancing I'm worried about,” Steve mutters.

“Never said it had to be on a dance floor,” Bucky says with a wolfish grin. Steve groans and covers his face with his hands. “Now, chick, what ‘m I doin’ with all these damn onions?”

Wanda begins to instruct Bucky on what to do with whatever it is they're cooking, so Steve just sits and watches for a while. He's really missed his friend. It feels like he's stepped back in time, like nothing ever happened. He never went to Erskine, Bucky never went off to fight, the train didn't happen, and he never downed that plane in the ocean. It's… good. It feels nice. But then he only has to take one look at Wanda and Vision to remember that things aren't like that. They're different now. And he's different, too.

* * *

 

Tony flinches a little when he sees the first orange sparks from the beginning of a sling portal forming in the living room. He's kept himself there, partly as a way to be on alert for when Strange finally arrived, but mostly as a form of isolation away from Bucky. Clint went to the kitchen a while ago to make sure Bucky stayed in there and far, far from Tony. He really just _can't_ handle seeing and hearing Bucky flirt so openly with him. It's _murder_.

“It's about time,” Tony says dryly, standing to greet Strange with a handshake. Strange gives him a cool look instead of a witty response. “Seriously, nothing? I'm dying over here. I've got a teenage version of my lover running around dropping the worst pick up lines you've ever heard.”

Strange cracks a smile at that. “Oh, now this I have to see.” He looks at Rhodey. “Where is he, anyway?”

“In the kitchen,” Rhodey says. “Most of the others are in there, too. Tony's keeping himself in isolation.” Rhodey snickers. He's a cruel, cruel man.

“Is that really so necessary?” Strange asks, rolling his eyes. “One might think you weren't capable of a little self restraint.” Strange is cruel, too, Tony decides.

“Why do all my friends hate me?” Tony asks the air. “Seriously, is this karma, or what?” He huffs at Rhodey's laughter and turns his flat stare on Strange. “Well, let's go see what the young buck is up to.”

“Bad pun tax,” Rhodey says immediately. “Pay up, Tones.” He grins relentlessly as they head out into the hall.

“You live here rent free, you eat my food, you drink my booze,” Tony laments, even as he grabs his wallet from his pocket. “Why am I still subjected to this? It isn't _fair_ , Rhodey.”

“Hey, man, you don't get to deny the agreement we made back when you were a punk ass fourteen-year-old. Now pay up.” He holds out his hand imperiously. Tony grumbles even as he finds a fifty and slaps it into Rhodey’s hand. “Besides, all's fair in love, war -”

“And puns, I know,” Tony sighs as they enter the kitchen. He can't help but smile a little when he sees Wanda and Bucky side-by-side at the stove. Wanda somehow managed to get one of the frilly pink aprons Tony bought her as a joke over Bucky's head. She's in the matching yellow one.

“This looks cozy,” he comments lightly. Wanda looks at Bucky and cackles, and Tony is fairly certain she's been doing that a lot. “Nice threads, there.”

“I dunno,” Bucky drawls, turning to lounge against the counter by the stove. He picks at the lace around the bottom half of the apron and gives Tony a smoldering look that goes _straight_ to Tony's dick. “I think they'd look better on your bedroom floor.”

Tony pinches the bridge of his nose. “Lay off, jailbait,” he sighs.

“Not a chance in hell, old man,” Bucky says cheerfully. Too goddamn cheerfully, honestly. It's like he's _trying_ to make Tony commit some kind of felony.

Tony gives Strange a long-suffering look. “See? Do you see this?”

“It's not that dire,” Strange says, an evil, _wicked_ smirk playing at his lips.

Tony's positive, now. All his friends really do hate him and they're all out to get him. Why does he have such awful friends, really? Is he that bad of a person? What did he do to deserve this?

“It _is_ ,” Tony hisses. “He's _jailbait_ , and I will go to _jail_ because I am a _weak man_ , Strange. Now _fix this_ before I wind up in Attica!”

Strange fucking _laughs_ at him, because of course he does. “You wouldn't last a day.”

“No, I wouldn't! I'd rather go back to Afghanistan and deal with the Ten Rings again! Or hell, give me a horde of Chitauri to fight! This is _torture_.” He groans. “Waterboarding was kinder than this.”

“Don't be so dramatic,” Natasha says. She gives Bucky an assessing look that makes Bucky's eyebrows go up. “Although,” and her voice is much louder than the whispers Tony was speaking in, “I'm sure Bucky would be up to the kinky sort of torture.” She shoots him a wicked smile, and Tony feels another piece of him shrivel up and die.

“I thought you were on _my_ side,” Tony laments pitifully.

“I'm on my own side,” Natasha says sweetly. “You know that better than anyone.”

“I'm certainly not opposed,” Bucky says, his tone low and downright sinful. “Just tell me what you like, doll.”

Tony shoves his hands in his pockets and forces himself to stand straight and tall. He's _iron_ , dammit. “Jailbait, remember?” he asks, raising an eyebrow and trying to seem like he's completely unaffected. Bucky - _his_ Bucky - says shit like this all the time. Usually, though, it's just the two of them, and Tony can jump his bones when he does it.

It was a bit of a system they'd worked out. Sometimes, Bucky wasn't okay with touch. Tony understood that. He'd spent nearly seventy years when the only touch he received was painful. Bucky Bucky did still like sex. Very much so. He just couldn't always handle the physical aspect of it. So, once, when Bucky was doing his flirty sweet-talking, Tony had come up with an idea. Tony was literally _always_ down for sex. Anytime, anyplace. So he'd told Bucky that whenever he wanted any, to drop one of those cheesy lines, and Tony would understand. It worked for them, and Tony actually really sort of loved that Bucky liked flirting with him so much, even if they were pretty solidly an item already. Bucky enjoyed it too, he’d admitted, said it made him feel just a little bit like his old self again. Tony loved the Bucky he had _now_ , of course, but he wanted Bucky to be happy with himself, too, and he so often wasn't, that Tony thought maybe feeling like who he used to be, at least sometimes, wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

That's why _this_ is killing him. He's practically developed a pavlovian response to Bucky's flirting, now. He hears a line, he gets hard. It just _happens_ . He knows sex is coming, and he wants it. That's what his body is telling him, but his brain knows different right now. This too fucking young version of Bucky is sweet and adorable and everything, but Tony feels a little too much like a dirty old man, and it would feel like he was cheating on _his_ Bucky and using this younger Bucky at the same time. He won't do that, not to either of them.

But he doesn't want to tell the young Bucky that, and he sure as _fuck_ doesn't want to admit the whole thing about the cheesy pick up lines, either. That's revealing too much about his Bucky's personal life, something he knows the other Bucky isn't comfortable with. So. He suffers.

“Hate to break it to you, Stark, but this version of Bucky is nineteen,” Strange says, cutting into Tony's thoughts. He's got his glowy-magic-thing going on, and one of the mandalas is resting right in front of Bucky. “And the age of consent in New York is seventeen. The jailbait argument won't work.” He smirks at Tony with a raised eyebrow. It's obviously a challenge.

Steve, Tony notices, is watching all of this go down. But he hasn't said anything. Tony sighs.

“Yeah, well, I'm not about to use Bucky like that, either,” Tony says, looking at Strange but keeping Steve and the young Bucky in his sights. “It's not fair to him, and it's not fair to the other Bucky - _my_ Bucky - either.”

“This Bucky is yours, too, sweetheart,” Bucky says with a brilliant grin. It's one Tony's only seen a handful of times, one he usually works so damn hard to coax out of his Bucky, one that always feels like a victory prize when he sees it. It makes something inside Tony melt, but he doesn't give in. He can't.

“And you don't think your older self would have a problem with his lover fucking a nineteen-year-old boy?” Tony asks, eyebrows raised. He can throw that challenge back on Bucky and only feel a little guilty for it when Bucky's smile fades into a more troubled expression. “I'm forty-eight, kid. I'm thirty years older than you. It might not be technically illegal, but it still puts a bad taste in my mouth. You feel me?”

Bucky nods slightly. “Yeah, I can see that,” he says. “But -” he hesitates for a moment, then steps closer to Tony. “You're mine, ain'tcha?”

“Sort of,” Tony allows. “The older you, anyway.”

“Then can I ask for just one thing, before this magic guy changes me back?” Bucky asks, his gray-blue eyes big and imploring. Tony is _weak_ , dammit.

“Depends,” Tony says slowly. “What do you want?” If Bucky asks for sex, he's going to say no. He commits himself in that second. He _has_ to say no.

“Just a dance,” Bucky says with a small smile. “Hopin’ maybe I'll remember it.” He gestures back at Wanda. “She says the other me is real reserved, don't get out much. You look like someone who deserves a nice time.”

Tony smiles, just a bit. “My Bucky does give me a nice time,” he says softly. “He's the sweetest man I've ever met.”

“That's good,” Bucky says with a nod. “Smart of me. Shouldn't let someone nice as you go so easy. Still want that dance, though. If you'll let me.”

“Oh, just say yes,” Wanda says. “This is too mushy for me to stomach before I've eaten.”

“Says the girl who watches _The Notebook_ every week,” Tony snarks at her. She sticks out her tongue.

“Just do it, Tony,” Natasha says. “He'll enjoy it, and so will you. After dinner. And then we can get him back to his right age.”

“Fine,” Tony sighs. He looks at Bucky. “Yes.”

Bucky grins brilliantly again. “Thanks, doll.” He turns away, even if it looks like he wants to do something else, and helps Wanda gather everything they've cooked to the island.

“Such a sap,” Strange teases lightly as he accepts a plate from Vision.

“Shove it, Strange,” Tony murmurs.

* * *

 

Tony is the kind of man Bucky's heard referred to as a _silver fox_ . And damn if it ain't true. Sure, he's _old_ , but he's not that old, Bucky doesn't think. He still isn't sure if he should believe that Tony's actually almost _fifty_ . He doesn't look it. His da was only thirty-nine, and _he_ looked older than Tony. But the silver streaks, focused mostly around Tony's temples and in his fussy little beard, are endearing rather than repulsive, and what few wrinkles he has only seem to appear when he laughs or smiles. The good kind of wrinkles. Paired with the jeans that look damn-near painted on around his glorious round ass and the semi-tight fit of his tee shirt under the black blazer, and Bucky was gone on Tony at first sight.

Speaking of…

Bucky grins to himself and winks at Wanda. She reminds him so much of his little sister, even though she's older than he is, that it sort of hurts. He's trying not to think about how his whole family, his friends, are all dead now. Flirting with Tony has been a good distraction, and Tony's reactions have been well worth it. There's always just a split second, his eyes widening and pupils going wide, just before Tony locks it down and pretends like he isn't bothered. Bucky knows better. He's been flirting with dames - and men, when he could get away with it - for years now. He knows what to look for.

Bucky takes the plate in his hand to the table and goes a little out of his way to deliberately walk in front of Tony. He sets the plate on the table, then turns casually and smiles, real big. Tony, he thinks, likes it when he does that. He gets this sort of soft look around his eyes.

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” he asks slowly. “Or should I walk by again?”

There it is, that little flash of a heated bedroom look, and Bucky's _gone_ on this man. So gone. He knows _he_ can't have Tony, but it's weirdly comforting that at least some version of him gets to have Tony. The groans and laughs and sighs around him filter in one ear and straight out the other.

“We talked about this,” Tony says, his voice a bit stiff but still gentle.

Bucky nods and shrugs in the same movement. “Figure it can't hurt too much, huh, old man?” There's a brief flash of _something_ in Tony's expression again. Bucky doesn't think it's a bad thing. He grins widely again. “No harm, no foul, right?”

“It's harming _me_ ,” Clint whines. Bucky just laughs. He thinks Clint is actually really enjoying all this, but he has fun complaining about it too much to stop now.

They settle around the table, at last, and Bucky makes sure he's beside Tony. He flashes Tony a quick smirk. “Seem to have lost my teddy bear. Can I sleep with you instead, doll?”

“You're actually killing me,” Tony says plaintively. But he doesn't ask Bucky to stop.

“You know, I am feeling a little off today,” Bucky remarks casually. He ignores Steve's question about what's wrong and keeps his eyes on Tony. He smirks. “Would you like to turn me on?”

“Okay, enough,” Steve says firmly. The no-nonsense voice he’d learned from Mrs. Rogers and apparently only got better at using. Bucky rolls his eyes, but he does finally turn to his plate and take a cautious bite. Whatever it was that he and Wanda and Vision cooked, it's pretty tasty. “Thank you.” Steve's sigh of gratitude just makes Bucky want to flirt more, but he thinks he can give them all a break, maybe. For a little while. False sense of security and all that.

Only, then, Tony leans a little closer. “You're the reason Santa has a naughty list.”

“Well, then, you better give me a picture of yourself so I can show him what I want for Christmas,” Bucky says right back. He laughs lightly at Tony's small smile.

“I’m no mathematician, but I’m pretty good with numbers. Tell you what, give me yours and watch what I can do with it.” Tony grins triumphantly.

Rhodes boos at him, so Bucky looks over with an amused smile. “Tones, man, that line doesn't work for you. You _are_ a mathematician.” Tony flips him off.

“I wish I were sine squared and you were cosined squared, because together we could be one.” Bucky laughs, full of pure delight, at the heated look Tony gives him for that one. He'd heard it once, but he'd never really used it. He didn't think anyone would get the joke. Tony obviously does.

“Oh no, we're doomed,” Natasha intones.

“Why?” Wanda asks through her giggles.

“He's talking _math_ to Tony,” Clint whines.

“The only thing worse is talking science to him,” Rhodes says with a shrug.

“I'm trying to _eat_ ,” Steve says, clearly annoyed with them both. Bucky thinks Tony might be doing it especially because it annoys him. He might like Tony even more for that.

“You heard him, boys,” Natasha adds. “No sex at the dinner table.”

“Take that shit to a bedroom!” Clint shouts, covering his eyes with one hand while shoveling a bite of food into his mouth with the other.

“Sorry, old man, I don't know any science ones,” Bucky says sadly.

“That's okay, I do,” Tony says cheerfully. He clears his throat dramatically. “According to the second law of thermodynamics, you’re supposed to share your hotness with me.”

Bucky laughs loudly, quickly chews his bite of food, and thinks of another. “Is it hot in here? Or is that just you?”

“Boo,” Rhodes shouts. “That one has to be old, even for you, Barnes.”

“Eat me, Rhodes,” Bucky calls back with a wide grin.

“That's my job,” Tony says, looking Bucky up and down, then licking his lips.

“This is better than that horrible reality tv Clint watches,” Wanda says, clapping her hands in delight.

“Even the Kelvin scale could not possibly measure how hot I think you are.” Rhodes whispers loudly to Bucky from across the table. “He tried that one once with a girl from his physics class at MIT.”

“She turned me down flat,” Tony says, putting his hand over his heart with a sad nod. He looks at Bucky. “But you? You’re like an exothermic reaction, you spread your hotness everywhere.”

“You spend so much time in my dreams I should charge rent,” Bucky shoots back.

“Ehh,” Clint says, waving his hand back and forth. “Three out of five.”

“I may not be a genie, but I can make your dreams come true,” Tony says, completely ignoring Clint's comment and Wanda's demands to know how his ranking system works.

“Four out of five for the _I Dream of Genie_ reference,” Natasha declares. Bucky has no idea what that is, but he likes the line anyway.

“Can I follow you home? Cause my parents always told me to follow my dreams.”

“Five out of five!” Wanda shouts, clapping. “That was perfect.” Tony and Bucky both laugh.

“It was _lame_ ,” Clint complains. “Now this?” He turns and bats his eyes at Natasha. “Was your father an alien? Because there’s nothing else like you on Earth!” Natasha rolls her eyes. “That's priceless!”

“Four out of five,” Wanda says with a shrug. “Points for originality, but I think most of the people at this table have too much alien-related trauma to make it truly funny.” Clint sticks his tongue out at her and calls her a spoilsport.

“I’d say God Bless you, but it looks like he already did,” Bucky tries. Tony snorts a laugh.

“Three,” Natasha says.

“Two,” Clint mutters.

“Also three,” Wanda frowns. “Your other lines were so much better, Bucky!”

Tony smirks. “How about we slip between my beta-pleated sheets and you get to know my alpha-helix?”

“Two,” Clint boos. “No one gets that one, Tony!”

“I did,” Rhodes snorts.

“Three,” Wanda says slowly. “I think I get it?”

“Five,” Natasha declares. “Science-based, original, funny, _sex_. All-around perfect for the two of them.”

“Harsh critics,” Bucky says with a laugh to Tony. “Are you my appendix? Because I don’t understand how you work but this feeling in my stomach makes me want to take you out.”

Tony laughs, leaning over slightly into Bucky's space. He laughs with Tony. He's glad Tony isn't so upset about the lines anymore. It makes him feel a lot better about everything. And sure, _he_ might not get to keep this wonderful, funny, beautiful man, but the other Bucky does. And Tony will get _his_ Bucky back, with an extra happy memory or two to go with it. It's… it's a win-win situation, right?

Steve is gone, when Bucky decides to pay attention to what's around him again. He frowns. Why can't Steve just be happy for him? What's so wrong with liking Tony, anyway? Even with the weird history lesson earlier, Bucky feels like he's missing entirely too much of the story to really understand. He tries not to let it bother him. If Steve wants to be a heel, let him. He can't stop him and Tony from being together.

They all finish dinner with a little less teasing and flirting between the group and a bit more real conversation between a couple people. Bucky doesn't mind, really, even if he doesn't understand half of what they're talking about. Sometimes he feels as if some of the words they're saying are another language entirely, but it's interesting to hear all the same. He's not ashamed of his eavesdropping. He figures, if it was a private conversation they were after, they wouldn't have it at the dinner table.

But Tony breaks away from a conversation he's having with the magic guy - is the man's name really _Strange_ , or is that some kind of nickname? - and turns to Bucky. Bucky smiles softly at Tony. He really likes the way Tony's features soften when he sees Bucky smile.

“So, champ,” Tony begins, and Bucky cringes just a little internally. He obviously doesn't see _him_ as he does the older version of himself. That's okay, though, he guesses. “This dance you wanted?”

“Don't suppose they still have a good dance hall here in the future?” Bucky asks hopefully.

“Not quite,” Tony says gently. “Mostly they have these places called clubs with a lot of loud party music, and the dancing that goes on in those places isn't anything like what you're thinking of.” He gets a thoughtful look on his face. “Although…”

“There is the bar they made to look like an old speakeasy out in Harlem,” Natasha suggests. Tony nods. He must have been thinking the same thing.

“A speakeasy, huh?” Bucky asks, delighted. “I love Harlem. Always had a great time, there, even if I didn't get out that way as often as I'd have liked. Speakeasies were always a good place to find a nice time.” He remembers a fair few fellas he'd picked up for the night at speakeasies, but he doesn't want to mention them.

Tony shoots him a small smile, then takes a moment to look him over. Sadly, for Bucky, it isn't quite the sort of undressing look he wants to see. It's more assessing than anything.

“Clint, are those your clothes?”

“Yeah, man,” Clint says through a mouthful of food. Bucky grimaces, just a bit. Clint sort of reminds him of one of his buddies he'd worked with out on the docks. “His clothes were too big. Mine are a bit better.”

“You have anything he can wear to go to that speakeasy in? It's sort of a nice place.” Tony turns back to Bucky. “From what I saw about it, they have a live band that plays their music most nights, and a decent sized dance floor. They do covers of the stuff you probably know. Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong and Frank Sinatra, things like that. Lots of swing, but sometimes not.”

“Sounds swell,” Bucky says cheerfully. “Feel like I'm livin’ Richman's ‘Puttin’ on th’ Ritz.’” He laughs. “Ain't never got dressed up t’ got t’ a speakeasy before.”

“It's a little different, these days,” Tony says, gentle but still smiling. “They're nice places, mostly.”

“I'm looking forward to it,” Bucky says, leaning just a bit closer to Tony. “Real excited about that dance, old man.”

* * *

 

Steve's little vanishing act during dinner hadn't exactly been surprising, but it had been disappointing. She'd thought he'd be _happy_ to see his best friend again - the Bucky he knew and wanted back so very desperately. And Steve had seem pleased, at first. Their time in the kitchen while Bucky helped Wanda and Vision cook was a little tense, a little awkward, but still ultimately enjoyable for the both of them. Natasha had seen that clearly. So when she tracks him down after dinner, she isn't particularly surprised to find him brooding in his room.

“And here I thought you be happy to have your best friend back,” Natasha says, crossing her arms over chest and leaning against the jamb. Steve grimaces at her. “Something wrong with _this_ Bucky, too?”

“No,” Steve says - too quickly. Natasha just raises an eyebrow at him. “No, it - it's not that.” He sighs and shakes his head. “It's _Tony_.”

Natasha drops her arms and stands straight. “What about him?”

“He said he wouldn't use Bucky like that - like he's using the - the _other_ Bucky - and then he goes off and starts saying all those things to him! What the hell, Nat? How are you okay with that? Bucky - Bucky's just a _kid_.”

“Not really, and you know that,” she says flatly. “Besides, Tony's flirting was harmless. Bucky knows that, too. Tony agreed to a dance, not to a night of debauchery.” Steve looks like he's going to gag, but Natasha just rolls her eyes at him. “Grow up already. You're a hundred years old for fuck's sake. Tony was having a bit of fun, that's all. We _all_ were, and you'd have seen that for yourself if you hadn't gone running off like you did.”

“It isn't right,” Steve says mulishly, his chin stuck out like he's just dying for someone to punch him.

“Which part, exactly?” Natasha challenges. She's getting fed up with Steve's bullshit. She's tired of playing the go-between for him and most of the rest of the team. “The fact that they're both men?”

“No,” Steve says, waving that accusation away easily. “It - it might have bothered me, at first, when I woke up from the ice, but it's not - not a big deal, right? And I don't care who loves someone else. That's not my business.”

“Only if it's Bucky.”

“Bucky's my _best friend_ ,” Steve says, outrage and incredulity mixing strangely in his voice. “I have to - I have to look out for him.”

“He's a grown man who can make his own decisions,” Natasha says sharply. Steve just gets that stubborn look again. “No, Steve. I'm done. I'm finished with this ignorance. You have _no say_ in who Bucky decides to fuck, in who Bucky decides to be in a relationship with, or in who Bucky decides to love. Your opinion _doesn't matter_ . You say you want what's best for him, but that's limited to the very narrow scope of what you deem appropriate. It's childish and ridiculous. And frankly, Steve? I'm sick of it. The _team_ is sick of it, too. Tony has been nothing but accommodating to your oh-so-delicate sensibilities, but if I were him? I'd stop.”

Steve opens his mouth and half-stands to say something, but Natasha points harshly at the chair he's sitting in.

“No. I'm not finished. You need to sit back down and shut the fuck up before I _make_ you. Do not test me, Steve, because I do not share your sense of honor or Tony's sense of loyalty. I am on my own side, only.”

Steve sits, slowly, his jaw working like he's fighting the urge to shout at her.

“Tony is a good man, Rogers. You have had a bug up your ass about him from day one. I know, I was there. But you need to wake the fuck up and get over yourself and whatever issues you have with him. Tony is not using Bucky. Bucky is never going to be the young man he is in that kitchen. It's obvious to me and everyone else that this younger Bucky is still very much attracted to Tony, despite not knowing him nearly as well. So I believe you should take these opinions you have, that Tony must have _done something_ to force Bucky to like him, and _shove them up your goddamn ass_.

“You're acting like Bucky is _yours_. Your possession or your lover. I can't quite tell which. It's pathetic, and honestly, a little creepy. Get over him, get over yourself, and leave Bucky and Tony to their relationship in peace.”

“Are you finished?” Steve asks coldly.

“I am, but whatever comments you have, you can keep them to yourself. I don't want to hear them. I'm going to go with Clint to help Bucky find something to wear. I won't let Clint try to put him in that disaster of a purple suit Tony bought him a few years back. You can stay here, stay out of our way, keep your shitty comments to yourself, and let these boys go out and enjoy their night. Strange and Rhodes will go with them to turn Bucky back into himself.” She turns on her heel, but catches her hand on the door frame. “Oh, and Steve? I might have to break my rule and take sides in this argument. I don't want to have to do that. But you can bet your patriotic ass that if you hurt Tony because of Bucky? Yours won't be the side I wind up on.”

She leaves after that, letting Steve think about all she's said. She doubts any of it actually got through his thick skull, but a girl can dream, right? She huffs lightly and heads up to the assassins’ floor. She'll need to hurry after wasting so much time with Steve, otherwise Clint will have made Bucky look like a dumpster fire and have him half convinced it's how people dress “in the future.”

* * *

 

Bucky looks dashing in the dark blue suit Clint and Natasha stuffed him into. Tony's pretty sure Natasha is the one to thank for that and resolves to make her a gift when he gets a free moment. An upgrade to her Widow's Bites won't be good enough, not for this. Maybe a modified shock baton or something - collapsible so she can keep it in her belt when she doesn't need to use it, lightweight, and obviously durable. He'll figure it out later. Right now, he's too busy splitting his attention between the road and Bucky fiddling with a cell phone or the touch-screen in the car. He's adorable and sweet and he asks the _best_ questions about how things work.

Thankfully the drive isn't more than a couple hours, otherwise Tony would be fully in the swing of rethinking this entire outing. He'd already gone to Rhodey twice, earlier, wondering if this was really the right thing to do and if he should call it all off. Rhodey, bless him, had talked Tony down and helped him (mostly by heckling him) get dressed and ready for this little date. It was just some cute, harmless fun. Nothing to worry about, honestly.

Tony was still freaked out. He knew Strange had already done his magic-juju once - on _him_ no less - but he was still paranoid. What if it didn't work this time? What if Bucky was stuck like this forever? What would Tony do then? He'd never get _his_ Bucky back, and he wouldn't be able to have an actual relationship with a fucking nineteen year old. That would be… weird and wrong and… no. Tony already felt enough like a creepy, dirty, old man. He wouldn't ruin this Bucky's life like that, not if he was stuck at this age. Tony would get over it. Eventually. Probably. Bucky would definitely have an easier time of things because he wouldn't have all the memories they shared. That just made Tony sad.

“Thought we were supposed to be having fun, old man?” Bucky asks with a half-smile. He lets it drop when Tony focuses on him. “What's wrong?”

“Worrying about things that will probably never happen,” Tony says, forcing a bit of light cheer into his voice. Bucky doesn't seem fooled. Isn't that a novelty? “But you're right. We are definitely supposed to be having fun.” He casually reaches over and flips through the radio stations until he lands on one that features music from the 30s.

Bucky grins widely. “I know this one!” He laughs a little. “Didn't much figure anyone would still listen to that sort of thing, really.”

“Plenty of people like it,” Tony says with a shrug. “Sure, most of them are older than me, or hipsters, but hey. There's an audience for just about everything these days.”

“Yeah?” Bucky asks. “What about you? What do you like to listen to?”

Tony flashes Bucky a grin and taps the button that's his uplink for FRIDAY. “Babygirl, drop my needle.” Immediately, Black Sabbath begins pumping through the speakers. Bucky looks startled at first, but then he's grinning and bobbing his head along to the beat. Tony laughs, just a little lighter a little more carefree. So, this Bucky likes his music, too, huh? What a relief. Looks like _his_ Bucky isn't so different from the original after all.

They're still rocking, to Iron Maiden, when Tony parks near the speakeasy. He'd sort of wanted to open Bucky's door for him, but Bucky was already out of the car before Tony could do much more than think about it. Bucky's eyes are big and curious as he takes in the changes to the city around him. It's damn cute, honestly. Tony offers Bucky his arm, and Bucky grins, wide and delighted, as he takes Tony's arm and they head inside the dark club jazzed up like an old speakeasy.

The moment they walk in, there's a woman belting out a song into an old-style microphone with a small, live band behind her. “Doris Day,” Bucky murmurs. Tony looks over at him, quirking an eyebrow. “That's who she's singing. Looks kinda like her, too. All blonde-bombshell.” Bucky grins. “Wanna dance?”

“I believe that's exactly what we came here to do,” Tony says with his own smile. Bucky laughs, softly, and leads Tony over to the dance floor. There are only a handful of other couples dancing to the song, but Bucky cuts a damn good rug.

They don't talk much through the songs, and it's honestly nice. It's uncomplicated. They're just dancing, just like Bucky wanted. And it's fun. Tony hasn't allowed himself to cut loose like this in a while. Maybe, he thinks, he can ask _his_ Bucky if he wants to try dancing once he's back to himself. Tony would be happy dancing in the private lounge near his bedroom. It doesn't have to be in a place like this.

The singer, who is apparently working a lot of actual Doris Day songs into her rotation, begins to sing a song Tony actually recognizes. Bucky's sung it for him, a time or two, when Tony couldn't sleep and the nightmares were bad enough to bring back the insomnia in full force.

“ _Stars shining bright above you. Night breezes seem to whisper ‘I love you_ ’...” Bucky sings right along with Doris Day, his mouth close to Tony's ear as they sway together slowly. They're pressed right against one another, with no room left even for a grain of sand. Tony wouldn't have it any other way. He gives in to temptation, just a little, and rests his head on Bucky's shoulder. Bucky hums along to the next two lines, then sings, “ _Say ‘Night-ie night’ and kiss me_ _  
_ _Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me_.”

“I will,” Tony murmurs against Bucky's shoulder. “It's been fun. Don't judge me too harshly, but I'm ready to have _my_ Bucky back.”

“Just to the end of the song, Tony,” Bucky murmurs back. “That's all I'm asking for.” Tony nods his head and continues to sway with Bucky. “The other me is damn lucky. Tell him I said he better treat you right.”

Tony chuckles. “He always does. But I'll let him know you said that.”

“Good,” Bucky sighs. His hand rubs up and down Tony's back, exactly the same way the other Bucky always does it, and Tony melts into his hold just a little more. “ _I'm longing to linger till dawn, dear_ _  
_ _Just saying this…_ ”

Tony keeps his eyes squeezed shut. This song seems so sad, now. He doesn't quite want it to end, doesn't want reality to come crashing back into this neat little fantasy he's created.

And yet.

“ _Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you_ …”

Tony jerks his head up. He'd thought Bucky felt a little different suddenly. It's _his_ Bucky. He looks a little confused, but he doesn't stop dancing. He smiles softly at Tony and slides his hand up to cup the side of Tony's neck before kissing him gently. He's missed a line, but that doesn't stop him. “ _But in your dreams whatever they be_ …”  
  
“ _Dream a little dream of me_ .” Tony finishes the song right along with Bucky, not in the least ashamed of the tears stinging his eyes. The club is nice and dark, so most likely, no one noticed Bucky's change. But Tony does, and he's _missed_ these arms, even if it's only been a few hours.

Bucky kisses Tony softly. “Hey, doll. Mind filling me in? What happened?”

“Come on,” Tony says, voice just a little rough with too much emotion. He takes Bucky's hand and leads him over to a small table in the corner. He hadn't seen Rhodey and Strange come inside, but he can see them, now, sitting at a table in the back.

Tony sits, and Bucky sits beside him. “Who let Nat dress me, anyway?”

“That would be all of us,” Tony says with a little laugh. “It was her or Clint, and we weren't going to let Clint try.” Bucky grimaces. “So, the magic guy with HYDRA managed to zap you while you, Steve, Sam, Clint, Wanda, and Vhiz were clearing a base that we thought was empty. I dunno, I guess you shoved Clint out of the way or something? It's only been a few hours.”

“Why didn't Strange change me back right away?” Bucky asks. “And why are we _here_?”

Tony buries his face in his hands. “Young Bucky was _horrible_ . He kept flirting with me. Kept using so many cheesy pick up lines. I thought I was going to _die_ , Bucky.”

Bucky, the traitor, just laughs. “I know what I like,” he says, voice low and gravelly. “How old was I?”

“Nineteen,” Tony moans. “I'm such a dirty old man, Bucky. I'm a _pervert_ .” Bucky laughs again. “I'm serious! He kept using those _lines_ , babe, and you _know_ what that does to me.”

“Bet the other me figured it out pretty quick, too,” Bucky says. “He got you dancin’, looks like.”

“Only thing he asked for,” Tony says with an uncomfortable shrug. “Wanted to go dancing with me before we changed him back. How could I say no?”

“‘m glad you didn't,” Bucky says quietly, a small smile on his face. “Real glad. Was tryin’ to work up the courage to ask you to this place, anyhow. Came to here, and I have to say, it's nicer than I expected.”

Tony smiles softly. “I'd go anywhere with you, Bucky.”

Bucky takes Tony's hand in his and rubs his thumb over Tony's knuckles. “So, what do you say? Wanna make this place a regular thing, for us?”

“Definitely,” Tony whispers. He leans over the table a little and kisses Bucky gently. “But your younger self got me all hot and bothered and I've been half-hard since before dinner. So if you don't fuck me soon, I'm going to have to take care of -”

Bucky muffles Tony's words with a harsh kiss. “Where's th’ car?” he asks, his voice low and heated.

“Around the corner,” Tony answers with a wicked smile.

“Always did wanna fuck you in that thing,” Bucky says with a smirk. It's not like the younger Bucky's smirks, full of playful teasing. This smirk is dark and dangerous and sends all Tony's blood rushing straight south.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Tony asks. He stands and tangles his fingers with Bucky's. On their way out, he drags them by Rhodey's and Strange's table. “Bucky's back, we're leaving, and we might or might not come back tonight. Just FYI. Bye.” Bucky laughs softly as Tony tugs him out the door.

* * *

Strange looks at Rhodes. “You did get that on video, right?”

Rhodes raises an eyebrow. “Which part? Because I got them dancing, you doing your magic thing, and Tony just swinging by the table.”

“Good,” Strange says with a satisfied smile. “Send those to me. Seems like good blackmail material to torment Stark with.”

“You got it, man,” Rhodes says with an easy shrug. “Let's go grab a burger.”

  


THE END OF PART TWO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you think?  
> also - yes to a steve redemption arc or no to a steve redemption arc? i'm currently thinking yes (tho that doesn't bring with it rainbows and sunshine - it isn't that sort of redemption arc).  
> i'll get around to responding to all the glorious comments that literally make my entire day so much more bearable when i have the time and brainspace to think :) i really do genuinely appreciate them. they're amazing. you are all amazing, too.


	13. Deaged Steve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this goddamn chapter fought me every step of the way  
> i'm sorry it took so long  
> i've read every single comment, and i seriously can't tell you how much they all mean to me ♥ thank you, endlessly  
> i hope you like this chapter, too

When Steve woke up, he didn't recognize where he was. The room smelled like a hospital, and it sort of looked like one, but this wasn't like any hospital he'd ever been in before. It was very bright, and the bed wasn't even that uncomfortable. He had a strange mask on his face that was blowing a little bit of air at his mouth and nose. When he lifted his hand, he found a tiny tube attached to the back of it. His eyes followed the tubing to a tall metal rack with some strange bags. That part wasn't so unusual, really. And yet. 

He looked around the room and saw shelves and cabinets and a sink. It was bigger than he remembered any hospital room being. His was the only bed in the room, too, which was another strange thing, but he wasn't alone. He didn't see his ma, but the man in the chair looked… sort of familiar. Not really, but kind of.

The man smiled, but it looked like it hurt. "Hey Stevie."

"Who are you?" Steve asked immediately, his shoulders hunching. He realized the gown they had him in wasn't itchy, and that was new. Usually all the soaps these places used made his skin red and dry and itchy and he usually got hives if he wore them for too long. 

"What, you mean you don't recognize me?" The man gestured at himself with one hand, a half smile on his face. The smile seemed more familiar, somehow.

Steve tilted his head to the side, considering. "Mr… Mr. Barnes?" He startled a bit when the man laughed. It wasn't loud, but it seemed to shake him down to his core. 

The man shook his head, and Steve frowned. "Close, but not quite. Try again?" 

Steve didn't like this game, and he was about to open his mouth and say so when it hit him like a jolt. "Wait.  _ Bucky _ ?" He jerked upright in the bed, his back complaining at him for the sudden movement. He ignored it with long practiced ease. His eyes went wide as he drank in the man's face. It  _ was _ Bucky! It had to be! "You look different. Old." He made a face, and Bucky - it  _ had _ to be him - chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm pushing a hundred, thanks." He rolled his eyes. "You were, too. Yesterday. This - this is 2016, Stevie."

"Quit pulling my leg," Steve said with a half a nervous laugh. "That - that can't be right."

"It is, little Captain," a woman's voice said. Steve turned his head to look around the room, but he didn't see anyone else. He frowned sharply. "My name is FRIDAY. I'm an artificial intelligence. Essentially a very smart computer. I don't have a body. I would be more than happy to help you with anything you might need, however." Steve gaped at Bucky, but Bucky just shrugged.

"It's a weird explanation, but magic is real, and we really are in the future. This guy hit you with a spell that turned you back to this age. Yesterday, you were like me." Bucky waved a hand - and good gosh it was  _ metal _ ! - and an image appeared on the wall. The man sitting at a table with a big picture window behind him didn't look much like anyone Steve knew. 

And then he looked a little longer. Maybe he could sort of see it. He had the same eyes, the same hair. Maybe. His colors weren't always so good. He knew blue, though. He was good with that one. The man was  _ big _ though, and Steve knew he would never be that size. His ma always said his body was fighting itself, and he had to fight harder. It made him little, but tough. 

"That's really you," Bucky said. "And I'm really Bucky. G'wan, ask me somethin' only I'd know."

Steve thought about that for a long moment, his face screwed up in concentration. Something was making his head feel a little swimmy, but it wasn't bad enough that he  _ couldn't  _ think, only a little harder than usual, like the thoughts were too slow. He thought about his and Bucky's last conversation, just the night before, when Bucky had walked him home after they'd come home from sneaking in to see a horror picture Bucky had loved and Steve hadn't much liked. It had given him nightmares. But if this really  _ was  _ 2014, Bucky wouldn't remember that. He had to ask  _ something _ , though…

"What was the name of the girl you convinced to kiss me on my birthday?" No one else knew about that, except Bucky and -

"Ruthie," Bucky said with a slow smile. And  _ damn _ \- Steve could swear inside his head, that was allowed - but it was Bucky! "Ruthie Canetti. She was sweet on you, but you never did nothin' about it."

Steve felt his face heat up. "Fibber," Steve accused mildly. "She never did."

Bucky laughed, and Steve couldn't fight his smile. "I'm serious! It didn't take any convincin' from me. She asked me what you might want, and I mentioned you liking the way she'd looked in that one dress - the, the blue one, remember? - and she just nodded and then marched over to you and kissed you." Bucky had a far-away look on his face, but Steve was still smiling. Yeah, that was Bucky. 

"What happened to you?" Steve asked quietly. Bucky didn't look the same, anymore. He looked… haunted. The way some of the men his ma treated who'd been in the Great War. It worried him, scared him a little. And he had a metal arm now. That… seemed bad. Real bad. Steve had seen plenty of people with missing limbs, helping his ma out when he could. He didn't want to know what had happened to make Bucky lose his arm, but he felt he probably owed it to him to listen anyway. Bucky was always dragging him out of fights… Steve owed Bucky a lot.

Bucky sighed and had a pinched look as he regarded Steve silently. "There was another war, Stevie. And I got drafted. Made sergeant. You were madder than hell that no one would take you to fight, too. Then you went and got experimented on by this doctor. He gave you a serum. Made you into the guy you saw in that picture. All big and strong on the outside to match your inside. Eventually, you made it to war, too. As Captain America. We fought together for a while. Then I… fell. Off a train. I'd been experimented on, too. These guys - HYDRA - they had a serum like yours, but not the same. They gave it to me. I didn't die when I fell, and they captured me. You didn't know I was alive. Anyone else would have been dead. You put a plane down in the arctic to stop a bunch of bombs from killin' a whole bunch of people, and you were trapped in ice for almost seventy years. I… I was with HYDRA. They forced me. Brainwashed me. Turned my head inside out and made me forget everything I knew, for a while. Gave me an arm." He wiggled his metal fingers, but Steve was sitting in stunned, horrified silence, and he couldn't respond. "I was sent to kill you, after some people found you in the ice and woke you up. You recognized me. And… you stopped fighting. It was enough to cause a conflict in the programming. I didn't kill you. Eventually, you and Tony found me, and you brought me here."

Steve licked his lips, but his mouth felt too dry. Bucky reached over to the table beside the bed and grabbed an a gigantic cup - it was bigger than Steve's  _ head  _ \- and gave it to him. Steve found the straw and sucked down some of the ice cold water. When he felt he could finally speak again, he said, first, "I'm sorry, Bucky."

Bucky shrugged. "It wasn't your fault."

"Don't matter," Steve said stubbornly. "I'm still sorry that happened. But… where are we, anyway? Doesn't really seem like a hospital, not unless all the hospitals are this nice in the future."

"We're at a place called the Avengers Compound. You fight with them. The Avengers. You stop the bad guys and everything. You and Tony and Natasha and Sam and Wanda and Vision." 

"Doesn't seem like a lot of people," Steve said with a snort. 

"You do okay," Bucky said, a small smile playing at his lips. 

"What about you?" Steve asked curiously. "You don't fight with us?"

"Not much," Bucky said with a shrug. He played with the metal fingers and didn't look at Steve. "I - I don't really want to, not anymore. Spent those seventy years you were in the ice fighting and killing. Did a lot of that. And I was one of the bad guys, Stevie. I couldn't help it, didn't have any control over that, but… I'm tired of fighting all the time."

Steve didn't say anything at first. His gut instinct was to say that Bucky should try to fix what he did wrong. That was what Steve's ma always told them anytime they did anything wrong. But sometimes, it wasn't that simple. And Steve guessed this was one of those times. And Bucky  _ did _ look tired. It wasn't that he looked… rumpled. But his shoulders were slumped and he had that  _ expression _ \- the one Steve's ma had, sometimes, even on her off days, when she got to have a lie in, but she was still worn to her bones. 

"Guess you probably deserve a break, then," Steve said quietly. Bucky jerked his head up to look at Steve in surprise. Steve shrugged. He wasn't going to explain it. It probably wouldn't make any sense out of his own head. He whittled it down to the most basic understanding he could. "You look tired."

Bucky gave him a smile that was raw, cracked, and nearly bleeding. He laughed, once, and it wasn't a happy sound. "Yeah. Yeah, Stevie." He shook his head a little. "Anyway, do you need or want anything? Anything at all. Tony won't mind."

"Uh," Steve thought for a moment, "some cards? We could play, you know?" He gave Bucky a smile. "I hate sitting in bed like a bump on a log, not doing anything."

"You should be able to leave the med wing by tomorrow," Bucky said, and then he smiled softly. "We have a lot of your drawing stuff. Some fancy pencils and paper. Want any of it? Plus books. You always liked it when I read to you."

"Only 'cause there was nothin' else to do," Steve said, feeling grouchy. 

"Food, then? Tastes a lot better, these days." Bucky was already standing, so Steve just nodded. Bucky flashed Steve a quick smile - and it looked like it hurt, dammit, and Steve wanted to know  _ why _ , but he couldn't just ask, that was rude - and then Bucky whisked himself out of the room.

* * *

It was the second day. After eating the day before, Bucky had shown Steve what the tv was like, and how many shows he could watch - in color! - and they'd played cards and some kind of computer game that Steve was very bad at. But it had been the most fun he'd ever had while in the hospital. At one point, while he was asleep, the room had magically acquired a ton of flowers and balloons, which was really nice, even if they made Steve's eyes itch and water a little. Today, Steve had been shown a very fancy shower and how to use it, he'd been given clothes that actually fit him, for a change, and then he'd left.

There were an awful lot of people that didn't seem like doctors and nurses, but they apparently were. Bucky had led him through the building - and it was  _ huge _ , Steve didn't think he'd ever been in a building so big before - and they'd stopped in a… living room? Steve guessed that was what it was, though it was bigger than the whole floor of the apartment building he and his ma lived in. There was a kitchen, too, with a lot of gleaming fancy things that Steve wasn't particularly eager to touch. 

"Ready to meet some of the others?" Bucky asked once they were there. He seemed nervous and restless. 

"Quit pacin' ya jerk," Steve muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. "Hurts my neck t' look up at 'cha all the dang time."

Bucky smiled apologetically and ran his hand through his hair - and that was another thing that was weird, Bucky letting his hair grow quite so long, almost like a girl's - before ending that with a tight squeeze to the back of his neck. "Which one first, then, Stevie? Normal and easy to get along with, normal and difficult to get along with, weird as hell at first but very nice, or looks normal but is actually magic and can sometimes be difficult to get along with?"

"Wow, love those character flaws you've marched out for us." The sarcastic quip made Bucky flinch, just a little, but then his entire body relaxed and he turned to face the man who'd just entered the room with a tiny, but warm, smile. Steve felt, with a small ping of jealousy, that that was how Bucky used to look at  _ him _ , just - just two  _ days ago _ . That's what it seemed like to him, anyway. 

"You know it's true," Bucky said back, a small smile playing at his lips. It wasn't wide like the painful ones he was always trying to give Steve, but it looked  _ real _ . Genuine. Steve relaxed a little. If Bucky could look at this man like that, feel that comfortable around him, then maybe he wasn't so bad. Couldn't be. 

Steve took a moment to study him as the man was wrapped up in paying attention to Bucky - fussing over his shirt and the metal arm. He reminded Steve of Clark Gable, just a little. Maybe it was the beard and moustache. Steve hadn't ever seen Clark Gable with a beard, but he imagined he'd wear one that was all… fussy like that, if he would have worn one at all. The man was old, kind of. Older than Bucky looked, for sure. He had some silver hair at his temples and some wrinkles around his mouth and eyes. He was in good shape though, Steve thought. All the older people Steve had ever met like that were a little fat or either too skinny because they never could get anything decent to eat. 

Bucky turned to Steve, and Steve uncrossed his arms. "Steve, this is Tony. He owns this place. He's one of those superheros I was telling you about last night. Iron Man."

Tony cracked a grin. "I know the bigger you," he said. "And let me just say, you are like, ridiculously tiny compared to that. No offense." Weirdly enough, Steve thought he meant it. 

"The butter and egg man," Steve said with a nod. He sucked in a breath - still surprised when it didn't burn so much, that it didn't rattle around in his lungs and make that awful wheezing sound - and held out his hand. Tony stepped forward with a smirk playing around his lips and took Steve's hand in a firm grip for a short shake. "Steve Rogers," he said, introducing himself despite the man already knowing who he was. It didn't matter. His ma raised him right. 

"Tony Stark," he said in return as he took his hand back. "So, update: we're trying to get in touch with our resident witch doctor -" Bucky choked on a laugh, and Steve raised his eyebrows at him, but Tony kept talking - "but it looks like he might be a while. Something about the fate of the universe and time streams crossing and multiverses and I just really didn't pay attention." Steve frowned, because despite Tony's careless handwave through the air, Steve thought Tony had probably paid a lot of attention. It was something in his eyes, in the way he was eyeing both Steve and Bucky at once and still seemed to have something going on in his head. 

Steve had met a kid once who was real smart. Bucky was smart. He was good with numbers, and because he was good with numbers, a lot of other things came easy to him. He liked history a lot, and he was always reading to Steve, but science had been his favorite because it was interesting. But Bucky hadn't been smart like Tabitha. Tabitha had been the smartest girl in the school. Steve remembered finding her crying, once. She'd been told she couldn't go to college early because the college she wanted to go to wouldn't accept girls, and the the ones that  _ would _ wouldn't take her until she was eighteen. She couldn't do what she wanted, not that Steve had known what that was, and she was mad about it. Steve hadn't blamed her one bit. He remembered the way she had spent the rest of that year tutoring him in math. He only understood it now because of her help. Bucky hadn't been able to explain it well enough. Tony reminded him of Tabitha, a little. 

Steve decided to call him on his lie. "Don't fib," Steve said, rolling his eyes. Tony arched an eyebrow. "You paid attention." Steve didn't say how he knew. No one really believed that he just… knew. He understood those things. His ma once said he knew how to read bodies and faces because of his father and learning the times when it was bad to be loud or cry because he was sick and hurting. Those lessons had carried him through surviving until his father left them, and it was carrying on now. 

"Okay, so I did," Tony said with a shrug, accepting without questioning. That was weird. Usually only Bucky did that. Steve wasn't sure if he should like Tony more or less for that. "But it's needlessly complicated and you probably need at  _ least  _ two PhDs to get through a full breakdown of the situation, so we're going to leave that for now and break it down to what matters. Dr. Strange is out of reach, and he's the only one who can change you back. I don't know how long it will take, and neither does anyone else to my knowledge. I suspect Wong knows, but he won't tell, so he doesn't count. For now, half-pint, you're stuck as the bite-sized version of Captain America." 

"Is this guy for real?" Steve asked, looking at Bucky. Bucky smiled again, tiny and genuine, and something warm filled Steve's chest. He looked at Tony. "You talk too fast, and I don't understand half of it." He waved his arms in the air, maybe a bit too dramatically, but at least he wasn't too close to anything and he wouldn't hit anything. "It was 1932 two days ago!"

"It only seems like that," Tony said flippantly. "Two days ago, you were one hundred percent grade A American beef cake and leading the Avengers into a HYDRA base, and then you got magic whammied." Steve blinked at the… utter  _ nonsense  _ coming out of Tony's mouth. 

Bucky stepped closer to Tony and Steve watched as Bucky's arm slipped behind him. Tony relaxed as Bucky, apparently - Steve couldn't see  _ that _ well - rubbed Tony's back. "I think you're overwhelming him." 

"Probably," Tony said with a shrug. He grinned at Bucky. "That's totally my schtick, though. You know? Like, this banter thing is all I'm good for anymore." Steve felt uncomfortable hearing that, but he couldn't say why, not really. 

"Stop," Bucky murmured, infinitely tender. Steve flushed and looked away from them. "Shit."

"Kiss your mama with that mouth, Buck?" Steve quipped easily. Sara Rogers allowed no swearing, and Steve regularly gave Bucky utter hell for it, mostly because he was a little shit and he delighted in it. He and Bucky swore almost as bad as the sailors at the docks, so long as they weren't anywhere someone might recognize them and go tell their mothers. 

"Not in over seventy years, punk," Bucky said back, but there was a tightness in his voice. Steve looked over at him, and there was distance between Tony and Bucky again. Steve felt more comfortable, but then he felt guilty. He shouldn't make Bucky feel bad just because it made him feel weird, seeing two men like that. 

"I'll send in Wanda next, huh?" Tony asked, already backing out of the room. "Get the hard parts over first. Vision, too." Bucky nodded tightly, his mouth sealed shut as if he wanted to say something but he was holding himself back. 

"Give us a minute?" Steve asked politely.

Tony seemed a little surprised by the request, and a little sad, a little bitter, but he nodded all the same. "Just let FRIDAY know." And then he was gone.

"Steve," Bucky tried, but Steve waved him away.

"I can tell you're sweet on him, jeeze," Steve complained, hamming it up. Bucky didn't laugh, not the way he would have just two days ago. Steve looked at Bucky with a frown. "Buck, what'd I say to you, that time I found you behind Coleman's?"

Bucky got the far-off look on his face again. He shook his head. "I don't remember that, sorry." He tapped the side of his head. "Not all of my memories are there. Or clear." 

"It was last year. Little after your birthday. I went looking for you after you'd ditched me with little Willy Gunnell and his marbles. Found you and Alfredo Ricci locked up together. 'Bout died of embarrassment, the three of us. Alfredo ran off, scared I'd tell. I never did. And I told you…" Steve took a deep breath and refocused on Bucky, hardly aware that he'd looked away when he was recalling the memory. "I told you I didn't care. I know it ain't - ain't legal, or nothin', but it shouldn't matter, right? We had little enough, and if he made you happy, that was good. You deserved that. You cried, Buck. Never did see you cry like that, not before and never after that. Thanked me, like I'd done you some kind of favor. It wasn't. It was just - you're my brother, right? And I want you to be happy. If that showboat out there makes you happy, fine. I don't get it, but I never did." Steve shrugged and took another deep breath. He wheezed, a little. 

Bucky was standing perfectly still. He didn't even look like he was breathing. It was if he'd turned into some kind of statue. Then he shuddered and the spell broke, and Bucky smiled again, the small one. Steve grinned widely back. "Thanks, Stevie. The… the you from now… you don't like Tony, much."

Steve frowned sharply. "Why?"

"He did a lot of shitty things, back before he became Iron Man, and some shitty things happened when he was just trying to make the world safer. The you now blames him for all of it, can't see that Tony's trying so damn hard to make up for all of it. Tony… Yeah, he's got a lot of money, and yeah, he grew up to that life, but it wasn't easy for him, and he's had a lot of really terrible things happen to him. We keep trying to convince you to give him a break, to cut him some slack and just… understand him a little, but it isn't working. Never remembered you being so damn stubborn, not about that kind of thing."

"Well tell grown up me I'm bein' a real mug," Steve said with a mullish expression. He flushed. "I'm… jealous, I guess. You used 'ta be that open with me, and you don't seem like you are. Is it because I'm back to being fourteen again, or because of older me?" That was giving him a headache, thinking of two of himself.

"Little of both, and a lot of other things," Bucky admitted quietly. "I don't want to talk about all that, though. It's… not good, Stevie."

Steve nodded. "I got that, Buck. Still. You remember me, right? I ain't gonna judge you, not without hearing the whole story first. Never did before." 

There was one time when Steve had heard about Bucky getting into a nasty fight. Usually, Bucky fought because Steve had opened his big mouth and gotten them into the trouble in the first place. Bucky was a boxer, so he fought all the time, but usually not out of the ring unless he was defending Steve. Bucky had come to school beaten to hell and back, but grinning and triumphant. Steve had heard the whispers, that Bucky had jumped Sean Pratt for no reason, had beaten him unconscious and just  _ kept hitting him _ even after he was down. And Steve heard worse than that, too. But he didn't ask, and he didn't pressure Bucky to tell him. And he didn't judge him for it. Bucky cracked two days after that, telling Steve in private about how Sean's girlfriend at the time hadn't wanted to do anything more than a little kissing, and how Sean hadn't exactly been asking - or willing to take no for an answer. Bucky had indeed jumped Sean and beat him unconscious, but he hadn't hit him a single time after that, instead carting Sally off to Sara Rogers herself to get looked after. It was one time Sara Rogers and Winnie Barnes hadn't punished Bucky for fighting, and had instead praised him - privately, of course. Steve wasn't comfortable sharing that story, though. Not now, at least.

"Maybe some other time," Bucky hedged. Steve nodded, accepting the lie for what it was without arguing for once. "Anyway. Tony's doing his damndest to make the world better, and all the older you seems to care about is… well, me. That I'm not the Bucky you remember. That I'm different now. And he thinks it's partly Tony's fault."

"I'm an idiot," Steve muttered. "We can talk more about that later." He would, absolutely. He wanted to know all of it first, though. He couldn't really judge  _ himself _ too harshly without knowing all the facts, either. Maybe FRIDAY could help him. She'd been really nice so far in giving him whatever he wanted. 

"Whatever you want, Stevie," Bucky said quietly. Steve wasn't too sure about that, most seeing as how he wanted to go  _ home _ and couldn't, but it was okay. If it was in Bucky's power, he'd probably do it. 

"Well, let's meet the rest of these superheros, then," Steve said, plastering on a smile. "Might as well get that done before lunch, right?" Bucky gave him a small smile, reserved but a little proud, and Steve positively glowed from it. 

* * *

Steve liked Sam the best, he decided. Not more than Bucky, obviously, but out of all the new people. He wasn't entirely sure what Vision even  _ was _ , and all the words they used to describe him sounded too much like something out of a science fiction book for Steve's comfort. Wanda was nice, and funny, but she had a weird… thing. With Tony and with Bucky. And that meant Steve didn't quite trust her as much as maybe he would have if not for that. Steve liked Tony, too, but he just didn't understand a lot of what he was saying. He didn't think Tony was doing it on purpose, and no one else really seemed to have too much trouble following along with him, so Steve figured that was just him. When he  _ did  _ understand him, Tony was kind of funny and not at all what Steve expected, considering he seemed to have so much money.

Still, Sam was the most normal. Steve and Bucky had grown up in Brooklyn, but they ventured out to Harlem, sometimes, mostly when looking for something new to do. Steve had friends out in Harlem, and he liked them a lot. Sam reminded him of some of them. He seemed genuinely nice and easygoing, quick to laugh and smile the way Bucky had been once, and always ready with a joke when anyone said something funny. He even took the time to try to explain some of the words they were using when Steve couldn't keep up. 

So, after lunch, Steve left Bucky with Tony and followed Sam into the living room. Vision and Wanda had left through the glass doors into the yard, mentioning something about a greenhouse. Steve wanted to see it, but he knew his allergies would bother him, so he didn't ask. Sam settled on the couch and smiled when he noticed Steve. 

"What's shakin' little Cap?"

Steve sat in the big armchair near the couch. "I want to know what's going on with… everything." He frowned. That wasn't specific enough at all. He shook his head. "Bucky mentioned it, some, earlier. He said the other me was a real jerk to Tony. I want to know why I'd act that way. I want to know all I can about Tony and about the other me, so I can understand."

Sam took a long, deep breath. It wasn't quite a sigh. "It's a long story, and it isn't pretty. It's all intertwined with a lot of other stuff. So, let's do this more or less linearly. We'll start with you." Steve nodded, eager.

"When Bucky got drafted, you were angry and bitter. You tried to join up, too, but no one would take you. Your health was too bad. I think you tried like, fourteen times or something. You and Bucky went to the Stark Expo the night before he shipped out. You guys watched Howard Stark debut a flying car that mostly just crashed and burned. Then you went to the recruitment office at the Expo, after Bucky left, and you met Dr. Erskine. He agreed to let you try. So you went to basic, and you manipulated your way around a lot of the tests they were doing back then, since you weren't physically strong. It impressed Colonel Phelps and Dr. Erskine, but not as much as when one of them apparently threw a decoy grenade and you threw your scrawny ass self on it like you were going to protect someone." Sam chuckled, but Steve couldn't quite find it in himself to chuckle along as well. 

"Anyway, Erskine chose you for the super soldier program. He said that the serum changed people. Made what was good even better and what was had even worse. He took you to Howard Stark, and they gave you the serum that turned you into a super soldier. It took Howard's special machine to activate it. You went in looking mostly like you do now, and you stepped out looking like Captain America." FRIDAY provided a picture on the black-top coffee table for reference. Steve frowned at the image. The man wasn't… posing, exactly, but it was clear he knew someone was watching him from the way he was standing. He supposed the man was himself, but that felt too weird. The guy in the picture didn't look anything like him. 

"After that, you were a dancing monkey for a while with the USO. It was that, or become a government experiment. See, World War II was all about fighting the Nazis, for you. And they had this science division called HYDRA. One of their guys was there when you were turned into a super soldier. He shot Erskine and tried to steal the formula. You got him, but Erskine died, and the serum went with him. 

"You eventually went overseas, and that's when you found out that the 107th, Bucky's troup, had been captured. You disobeyed orders and went straight to Azzano, with Howard's and Peggy's help, and you broke in and freed all of the prisoners. Oh. You met Peggy at basic, and she was there when you became Cap, too. She's… harder to explain. The two of you danced around each other a lot, but you never really made it official. Anyway. You saved the day, saved Bucky, and then you formed the Howling Commandos and you guys went after HYDRA specifically. 

"One mission, you guys were after one of their head scientists, Dr. Arnim Zola. You and Bucky were in one of the cars, and the side of the car was blown off. Bucky fell from the train, and everyone thought he was dead. No one knew he'd been experimented on while he was at Azzano. No one knew he had a version of the serum. Few weeks later, you were fighting the guy who lead HYDRA, Johann Schmidt. He called himself Red Skull. He had a serum, too, but it disfigured him. He had a plane with a bunch of bombs on it headed for New York. You put the plane in the arctic rather than risk it hitting anything and killing people. You were frozen for nearly seventy years."

Steve nodded. "Bucky told me most of that."

"HYDRA found Bucky. They captured him and ripped him apart from the inside out." Sam's expression was grim. "I'm a counselor at the VA. I talk to soldiers with PTSD and depression and all kinds of shit every day. I was in the Air Force. I did two tours, myself. But man, I don't know  _ how _ Barnes manages to get up every day and function as well as he does."

"Bucky's always been tough," Steve said, full of sad pride. He honestly didn't know what all Sam meant, but he knew Bucky had always been tough. There wasn't any denying that. He had enough memories of it. 

Sam gave Steve a small, pitying smile. "HYDRA turned him into a weapon. They took everything from him. They burned his memories out of his brain, forced him to do everything they said, and made him into an assassin. He's killed a lot of people, Steve. A lot of innocent people. He almost killed  _ you _ . More than once. And he's better now - a lot better - but he's still struggling. He will always struggle."

"He said he didn't want to fight anymore," Steve said quietly, remembering their conversation. He wasn't surprised, not really - especially not after hearing what Sam had just said - but he wondered if Bucky had mentioned that to anyone else… 

"I don't blame him," Sam sighed. "Anyway. Now for Tony. Howard spent years searching for you in the ice. He idolized you, to hear Tony say it, and I believe it. Most of the stuff in the Captain America exhibit at the Smithsonian came from Howard's private collection, after all. And apparently he has more of the shit. He was absent a lot when Tony was really young, and by the time Tony started showing promise as a baby Einstein - a literal kid genius - Howard was around and just drunk enough to beat him for messing up." Steve winced and curled into himself. He knew how that felt all too well. "Tony was seventeen when HYDRA sent Bucky to kill his parents." 

" _ What _ ?" Steve asked sharply. 

Sam nodded gravely. "Howard was making a new serum, and HYDRA wanted it. They sent Bucky to get it. Bucky crashed their car, beat Howard to death, strangled Tony's mother, Maria, and then took the serum. Howard's business partner, Obadiah Stane, ran Howard's company until Tony was twenty-one and Tony became CEO. This is where things get a lot worse. And… man, I don't want to be the one telling this story, but Tony refuses and he already said you could know if you asked."

"God, how can they get any worse?" Steve asked, wrapping his arms around himself. He didn't ask why Tony refused to say it himself. If it was really that bad, Steve figured he probably wouldn't want to tell anyone himself, either. He hadn't ever actually told anyone about his dad, after all. Bucky just  _ knew _ , and he was the only one who Steve would have told anyway.

"You sure you want to hear it?" Sam asked, sympathetic. Steve nodded. He  _ had  _ to know so he could understand. Sam sighed. "Stane used to rape Tony when he was little." Steve wanted to throw up. "When he was older, Stane abused him by introducing him to some bad people, people who took advantage of him and got him hooked on a lot of drugs. Stane put Tony in the gutter and kept him there. So, despite Tony being the official CEO at twenty-one, he didn't crawl out of the drugs until he was about thirty, after his fourth or fifth stint in rehab, when he'd overdosed and died for a full three and a half minutes."

"Jesus," Steve whispered. 

"So, Tony recovered. He was still an alcoholic, still partied with the rich and the beautiful, and he still slept around a lot, but he wasn't on the hard drugs anymore and he was brilliant. Stark Industries made weapons. They sold them to the government. They  _ also  _ did a lot of other things. Medical technology, work with crops so they'd grow hardier in poorer climates with less water and it hotter temperatures, and they did basic household electronics.

"Then, back in '08, Tony was in Afghanistan to demonstrate a new weapon for the military's top brass. The Jericho missile. After the demo, his caravan was attacked. A bomb landed beside him, and it hit him. A terrorist group called the Ten Rings kidnapped him and they also kidnapped a doctor and forced the doctor to save Tony's life. Tony lived, but he had to have an electromagnet embedded in his chest to prevent a bunch of shrapnel from entering his heart." Sam must have picked up on Steve's confusion. "Think about it like this. You've seen what a magnet does to metal shavings, right?"

"Yeah, we did that in science at school," Steve said with a nod. 

"The magnet in Tony's chest was similar, but it was about as big as my fist." He curled his fingers into his palm to demonstrate. "There were a lot of tiny metal pieces in Tony's chest. He had to have that magnet to keep them suspended in place, otherwise they would rip through his heart and kill him."

"They couldn't just take them out?" Steve asked. He wasn't surprised at all when Sam shook his head.

"He had that surgery in a cave with no anesthesia. Nothing to knock him out. Make sense?" Steve nodded, feeling queasy all over again. He'd had surgery, once. He'd had to have his appendix removed. It had hurt terribly, and they'd given him medicine to put him to sleep first. He couldn't imagine being awake for that. "The Ten Rings demanded Tony make the missile he'd demoed. Tony said no. So they shoved his head in a bucket of water and held him under until he began to drown, and then they yanked him out to let him breathe. Then they shoved him right back under. Again and again and again."

Steve shivered. "How did he live through all that?"

"I ask myself that a lot," Sam admitted with a shrug. "I still don't know. He finally agreed, but he didn't build them what they wanted. He built an arc reactor." A picture of a small, bright blue disc popped up on the table. "He used that to power the magnet in his chest. The he started building the first Iron Man suit. He had only scraps from bombs to use, and he was working in a cave. I'm still amazed, when I stop to think about it." There was a picture of a big, bulky suit of armor on the table, now. It was a little similar to the sleek red one Bucky had shown Steve the night before, but it was also completely different. "He destroyed the Ten Rings and flew out of the cave. Got rescued by his friend in the Air Force, and went home. He immediately stopped all production of weapons for Stark Industries after he'd seen how they were being used.

"The he found out that Stane was the one who hired the Ten Rings to kidnap him in the first place. They didn't kill him like they were supposed to, though. Tony was worth more money than Stane had promised them. After Tony found out, Stane paralyzed him with a special weapon and took the arc reactor right out of his chest. He'd built himself a suit of armor, too, but he couldn't get an arc reactor - no one else could build it. Tony lived, used a different reactor, and he and Stane fought. Tony's assistant at the time, Pepper, is actually the one who killed Stane. That part is really complicated, though."

"It all sounds complicated," Steve snarked. Sam nodded and shrugged, but he kept right on talking.

"Then there was the whole poisoning thing," Sam said. "He solved that problem by inventing a new element." Steve's eyes widened. "Yeah, Tony's… Tony's smart. A literal genius."

"You don't say," Steve murmured. 

"Then there was the whole thing with the Avengers. See, back when Tony had been dying from being poisoned by his old arc reactor, this guy named Fury who runs a secret spy organization sent a woman named Natasha to spy on Tony and act like his personal assistant. She wrote up an assessment that said, regarding the Avengers, Iron Man: yes, Tony Stark, no. So, Tony wasn't really on good terms with her or Fury when he was called in to assist with a crazy god from outer space that had stole a magic cube."

"What."

"Look, man, this is where shit gets weird, okay? But it's all relevant. I never thought my life would involve this fucked up shit, but here we are."

"Right," Steve nodded. He took a deep breath. "Okay, keep going."

"So, Tony meets Steve and things don't go well. They pop off at each other, and Steve immediately thinks about Howard. Tony is immediately reminded of how Howard always compared Tony to Steve, and they both also have very strong personalities, so it didn't go so well at first. They sort of worked it out when the aliens started attacking. Then Tony grabbed a nuclear bomb - the kind of bomb that would kill everyone in the state of New York and in most of New England with radiation - and he flew it into a portal in space. His suit died, though, and he crashed back down to earth. Tony died for a little while, you know? And he saw some awful shit on the other side of that portal. 

"Then The Avengers weren't really the Avengers anymore for a while. They went their separate ways. Steve and Natasha and Clint - Nat and Clint aren't here right now, but you might meet them in a few days - went to work with the spy organization. It's called SHIELD. Tony was still working for Stark Industries. And Bruce, he turns into a huge green monster that likes to smash things and is called the Hulk - he left the country. Thor is also an Avenger. You ever read any Norse mythology? Thor, the god of lightning? That Thor. He's sort of real. Only, he's an alien."

"This is weird," Steve said immediately. "I know you aren't lying, but this seems like you're reading some kind of comic book." 

Sam laughed. "Trust me, man, I know. I know. But back to Tony. He had to fight these guys that worked for a company called AIM. This guy, Killian, and this woman, Maya Hansen, had created a virus that was similar to the serum called Extremis. Only, it was turning people into bombs. Tony's driver and bodyguard got blown up, and then he told the these guys to come fight him. At his  _ house _ . Well, they blew it up. Tony lived, but Pepper, his girlfriend at the time, was kidnapped. And those guys put Extremis in her. So Tony had to save her. She ended up killing Killian, the guy behind it all, and Tony neutralized the virus so she didn't turn into a bomb and die, too.

"Then, about a year later, HYDRA showed up on the map again. They sent Bucky, who was their assassin, remember? They sent him to kill Fury. Bucky ended up fighting Steve and me and Natasha in D.C. He shot Natasha and almost killed Steve. Turned out, HYDRA was hiding inside SHIELD, the organization that Steve and Natasha worked for. They had this terrible plan to kill a whole bunch of people all at once using these big… airships, basically, with a lot of guns. Tony had designed the engines for them because he had a contract with SHIELD. He didn't know they were HYDRA. No one did. We took down the ships and stopped them from killing millions of people, but Bucky and Steve fought on one of them, and Bucky nearly killed Steve. He didn't, though, and even dragged him out of the river where they crashed and saved his life. He vanished, after.

"Then ULTRON happened."

"This is a lot," Steve said, feeling distressed. "I didn't… I didn't realize it would be this much."

"Hey, if you need a break, I understand," Sam said gently. "This is the last big thing, though."

Steve took a deep breath that burned and rattled in his lungs. Sam gave him a worried look, but Steve ignored it. "Go ahead, then. I can take it."

"If you're sure," Sam said with a nod. Steve was glad Sam wasn't trying to coddle him. It was nice. Even Bucky tried to make decisions for him sometimes, telling him things were too hard for him or when he was too sick to get out of bed or leave the house. Steve knew his own limits, he knew how to take care of himself. He appreciated Bucky's concern, sure, but the rest? Not so much.

"So. Wanda, right? She's from a country called Sokovia. It suffered from a lot of civil wars. A bomb hit her apartment, and she and her twin brother watched her parents die in front of her. The bomb? It was a Stark Industries bomb. Stane had been selling weapons illegally. So while Tony didn't have anything to do with that bomb being there - he hadn't sold it to whoever launched it, and he hadn't launched it himself - the twins sort of latched into Tony as their scapegoat. He was their person to blame because his name was on the bomb. They lived because the bomb never went off, but they wound up with HYDRA. They let HYDRA experiment on them. That's how Wanda got her magic. Her twin, Pietro, got super speed.

"We were raiding HYDRA bases looking for a scepter thing that was magic so Thor could take it back to his home planet. Wanda managed to get to Tony, alone, and she put a vision in his head. Made him see things. Tony got the scepter, though, and we went home. Back then, most of the Avengers were living in New York City in Avengers Tower. Tony and Bruce - who is, honestly, even smarter than Tony - worked with the scepter for a few days before Thor had to take it back to Asgard. Tony wanted to create a program that would keep the world safe from another alien invasion like the first one, back when the Avengers were first formed. But the scepter had something called the mind stone in it, and it fucked everything up. It killed the other AI, the one before FRIDAY, and it took over all of Tony's suits. That was ULTRON. He got it in his head that to best protect the world, he needed to kill all of humanity - because humans were the biggest threat to themselves and to the planet. Wanda helped him, and so did Pietro, until they figured out he was going to kill everyone. Then they went to the Avengers to help stop him.

"Everyone wound up in Sokovia. ULTRON used the city, lifted it up out of the ground and up into the air. He was going to drop it back down to earth like the meteor that killed all the dinosaurs. We stopped him, barely. That's also how Vision was created. ULTRON was trying to build himself an indestructible body, but we took it from him, and we used the mind stone with it, along with the scraps of JARVIS Tony had managed to get back. JARVIS was gone for good after that, but Vision managed to destroy ULTRON for good. 

"Steve and everyone else blamed Tony, though. It was Tony's fault ULTRON had been created at all. If he hadn't been fucking around with the scepter, if he hadn't tried to make that program in the first place, if he hadn't done a lot of things - Sokovia wouldn't be a pile of rubble and thousands of people would still be alive."

Steve frowned hard. He thought through everything Sam had just said. "But didn't you say that Wanda had put the vision in his head? And that Bruce had helped him make the - the thing?" The terminology was still awkward on his tongue, and he wasn't sure if he was choosing the right words. 

"Yep," Sam sighed. "We didn't see that, at first. We were all tired and angry and bitter. Pietro  _ died _ that day, protecting Clint and a kid they were rescuing. Steve led the arguments against Tony, and… we all just sort of followed along. Bruce had taken a quinjet as the Hulk and vanished. We had no idea where he was - we still don't know. Thor took the scepter and went back to Asgard almost immediately. Steve, Wanda, Vision, Natasha, and I, we became the Avengers. Clint retired. Tony retired. We… We didn't really speak to Tony much. Except when we needed things."

"That's a crappy thing to do to someone, even if you don't like them," Steve said, bristling with indignation. 

Sam nodded. "You're right. Steve and I? We kept looking for Bucky when we weren't doing other things. Natasha ended up telling Tony about her suspicions that Bucky had killed his parents. She and Steve had seen something during the whole mess with HYDRA and SHIELD. Tony found the records. He found a video. I remember the day he showed up to the compound. I was with Steve in the gym. Tony didn't say a word, he just stood there and made us watch that. It… it was brutal."

Steve shrank. "That was pretty crappy, too," he said in a small voice. 

"We - well, Steve. He deserved it. He'd known for about six months, and he never said a word about it to Tony. I left after they started screaming at each other. Whatever happened, they worked it out, some. Next thing I know, Steve is dragging me onto a quinjet and we're headed for Romania to grab Bucky and bring him back." He shrugged. 

"I don't understand," Steve said with a frown. "Why doesn't the older me like Tony if he helped the older me find Bucky? That's what happened, right?"

"Kid, you'd need to ask yourself that. I've tried to talk to him. He just seems… blind. To everything, lately." Sam shrugged, and he seemed defeated in a way that made Steve want to fight himself, even if he knew he'd lose. 

Steve didn't say anything for a while, thinking through everything a little longer. He needed to leave a message for himself, for sure. He couldn't let this continue. It wasn't fair, not to anyone. 

"Wanna play that game Bucky showed me last night?" Steve asked, ready to lighten the mood. "It had cars and some sort of cartoon characters that raced."

"Mario Kart is a classic," Sam said with a nod and a broad smile. "Sure, man, I'll get it set up." Steve smiled happily and hopped up to watch and ask questions about how it all worked. He was curious, even if he didn't understand most of it.

* * *

"Miss FRIDAY?"

"Yes, little Cap?" 

"Can you, uh, find me some paper and a pen? I'd like to write a letter." Steve looked around the big room that was supposedly his. It was sparse, like no one really lived in it. There were a few drawings that he'd supposedly done - and he thought he could sort of recognize those, in a way; they were better than anything he could do now, but still his style - framed and hung on the walls, but that was about it. The bed was big, but perfectly made up with a soft gray blanket and a few pillows. There was a chair in front of the windows with a small table beside it, and there was a dresser near the closet. The only personal things were a small compass with a picture of a pretty woman on the inside and a big shield painted in red, white, and blue. Steve knew the shield was part of the Captain America thing. He didn't touch it. 

"You'll find some stationary and a pen set just outside the door, little Cap," FRIDAY said after a moment. Steve's eyes widened. He opened the door to the room and found a small… robot. It had a tray clutched in its claws with a whole pack of unopened, fancy stationery, and a very pretty pen in a box beside it. Steve carefully took both items.

"Thank you," he said to the robot. It chirped at him, then made a little bobbing motion. Steve reached out slowly and patted one of the claws gently. The robot chirped again, a brighter, happier sound, then it spun and trundled away. Steve blinked a few times, then shrugged and turned back into the room. "Thank you, Miss FRIDAY." He wanders over to the table beside the chair and puts the stationary and the pen on top. 

"You're welcome, little Cap," she says warmly, and Steve almost - not quite, but sort of - felt like FRIDAY was treating him the way Bucky's ma always treated him. He was another mouth to feed when his own ma was too busy working, or when his father was drunk and surly, but she never complained and always had a smile for him, always included him, always treated him like another son. It made his chest hurt. He absently rubbed at it, wondering why. 

It took him a moment to move the table around the chair so he could sit in it - on his knees, because he was too short to sit in it properly and still write - but he managed, and FRIDAY didn't ask if he'd like any help, which made his chest feel even tighter and warmer. Maybe it was trying to move the heavy table? 

He sat for a moment and just breathed, harsh, wheezing breaths that ached and burned and rattled around in his chest and made it feel even tighter and hotter, but it sort of worked, he thought. Maybe he was just tricking himself? He wasn't sure. Ma always told him he had to be careful about that sort of thing. 

"Little Cap?" FRIDAY asked, and she sounded worried. "Your heart rate is unusually high. Should call someone?"

"I'm all right, I think," Steve wheezed. "Just my lungs giving me trouble, like usual." 

He always had this problem. Ma would make him sit still for a while, sometimes the whole day and night, and when he couldn't go out and get into any sort of trouble with Bucky, Bucky always came to him. He didn't want to bother Bucky right now, though. Bucky had said something about going with Tony to have him look at his metal arm for some reason, and Steve understood that. It probably hurt him, right? It was  _ metal _ . How could it not? And Steve would never try to take Bucky away from any relief he could find. Plus, he was pretty sure he and Tony were stepping out together, even if Bucky hadn't confirmed it. They probably wanted some alone time together.

"I really would prefer to call Sam Wilson to come and escort you to the medical wing," FRIDAY said, not quite insisting, but making it clear she didn't approve of Steve writing off his problems.

The world spun and Steve gasped for air that just wouldn't come. "Okay, yeah," said, nodding. 

"He's forty seconds away," FRIDAY told him. "Try to take slow, even breaths." 

Steve  _ knew _ that, but he didn't snap at her, even if he sort of wanted to. That wasn't polite, and besides, she was only trying to help. Bucky had explained that she wasn't even a person. He had to compare it to whatever Steve knew, because Steve didn't know what a  _ computer _ was, and he'd said she was like the box they played the game on - the one with the little racing cars. But she was much bigger. And with the box, he had to have a controller and push buttons to tell it what to do and how to move. FRIDAY didn't need any of that. She could do whatever she liked and make her own decisions. That was pretty cool, Steve thought, but he wasn't sure how that made her any different from a real person, except that she didn't have a body like they did. FRIDAY also seemed to know everything and anything, all the time. And her voice was all around him. Maybe Steve's concept of God was a little messed up because he hated that one priest that said his ma couldn't divorce his father when he was beating them both black and blue because of their 'holy union under  _ God _ ' and how his ma had to 'do her duty to her husband' even if she didn't want to. So yeah. Steve didn't go to church much like the good little Catholic boy he was supposed to be. And he didn't know the Bible as well as he should. And maybe what he was thinking now would get him kicked down to hell, but maybe that was okay too, because a God that believed it was better for he and his ma to get hurt all the time and to live so scared of his father wasn't the kind of God Steve wanted to go to at all. 

Maybe FRIDAY was God. If she was God, Steve would start going to church again. He'd probably apologize for breaking all the windows in that church, too. Maybe.

He giggled a little, swaying where he sat. 

"Steve? Oh man." Was that Sam? Probably. Steve's eyes were closed. He didn't know when that happened but he didn't want to open them just now. It was… too hard. "FRIDAY, alert medical to whatever's going on. I'm getting him down there. And then, I guess, tell Bucky and Tony."

"Already done," FRIDAY piped back. 

Steve felt someone - Sam? - pick him up, like he's a little kid. He didn't really know what happened after that.

* * *

 

The hospital sucked. It always had, and it always would, even with FRIDAY and tv and everything.

His heart had given him problems, again. Steve hated it, sometimes. And a lot of the time, he thought Bucky hated it, too, if only because it meant Steve was probably going to die sooner rather than later. He'd overheard a doctor talking to his ma, once, and he'd said Steve would be lucky if he made it to thirty. Of course, another doctor had supposedly said Steve was lucky to be born at all, so Steve didn't put a whole lot of faith in what doctors thought they knew.

Bucky wasn't in his room when he woke up, though. And Steve… Steve was disappointed. He'd expected Bucky to be there for him, with him. 

Tony came in just a few minutes after the nurse left, though. And that was… that was okay. Steve was tired, but he offered Tony a smile anyway. 

"Hey short stack," Tony said. He was moving, constantly. Whether it was walking around the room, fiddling with something, or just tapping his fingers at the center of his chest, or darting his eyes around at the equipment surrounding Steve, he never stilled. It looked exhausting. 

"Hi, Tony," Steve rasped. He took another sip of water. He liked this big cup. It was  _ insulated _ . The ice didn't melt for a long, long time, and so it was always cold and it felt good in his throat.

"You know, I never knew you had so many… medical problems. Not like this. Howard - my dad - he was obsessed with Captain America. Not so much with Steve Rogers." Tap-tap-tap went his fingers against his chest. "Anyway, doesn't matter. You'll be back to big and dorito-shaped soon enough. Probably. We still can't get ahold of Dr. Strange, but he'll come around eventually. He always does."

Steve nodded slowly. He wanted to ask where Bucky was, ask if he was okay, ask why he wasn't there with him. But that seemed rude. "Did you need something?"

"Not really," Tony said with a shrug. "It's just - well. The other you sort of hates my guts, actually. And it's a little refreshing that you don't seem to have that same problem. Plus, Bucky… he's having a hard time right now. Therapy isn't going easy on him, and he's working through all the crap HYDRA put in his head. Sam said he gave you a rundown of what happened to him. To, uh, us. Mostly."

"Yeah," Steve said with a slow nod. "Mostly." He chewed on his bottom lip. "How'd you and Bucky get around - around the thing. With, uh -"

"With my parents?" Tony asked with a wry smile. Steve flushed and nodded. Tony sat in a chair, and that was nice of him, really. It was hard following him around the room as he paced. "I forgave him. He did it, sure, but… it wasn't his choice. He couldn't have stopped it from happening. There's these words, that someone can say, and they'll turn him into HYDRA's puppet again. It's honestly terrifying to see. Few months back, I got hit with the same crap that put you down. The magic guy, we found out his name was Artem even if that doesn't matter much to little you, he got me with the spell and turned me into a five year old. Bucky took care of me for most of that time. And then HYDRA attacked because they wanted him back and they wanted me dead. They used the words against Bucky to try to make him kill me, but Bucky didn't do it. He protected me, instead. He wasn't himself, though. I watched the videos. He acts like a completely different person, almost. It's creepy."

"It sounds creepy," Steve agreed. "So you knew it wasn't really him who did that."

Tony shrugged and nodded. "His hands, not his mind. His body, not his choice. We've… we've had a lot of discussions about consent and what that means. Bucky's been taking things back, bit by bit. He's reclaiming himself - all of himself. Even the nasty bits, like the memories of his time with HYDRA. He says it may not have been his choice, but he wants to remember because it was still  _ him _ that did those things. I can't tell him no. I can't take that decision from him."

Steve wondered at that. Tony sounded like he was arguing, but it was all one-sided. Steve didn't disagree. Maybe it was all awful stuff, but if that was what Bucky wanted, then who was Tony to tell him he couldn't have it? Steve would probably be angry at him if he  _ did _ try to do something like that, really. But then why was Tony making it sound like that was what Steve thought…?

"Why does it sound like you're expecting me to fight with you?" Steve asked, his voice a raspy whisper only because he couldn't speak any louder. Tony stiffened. "Look. I don't know this Bucky, not like you do. But he's still my best friend. He's still like a brother to me. If that's what he wants to do, you  _ can't  _ tell him no. It wouldn't be right. He's still Bucky, even if he's different now. But I guess big me is a lot different, too, right? Would only make sense. It's been a long time since what I remember from a few days ago, apparently."

Tony huffed a laugh. "Stevarino, buddy, older you  _ hates _ that I'm helping him get those memories back. He wants his best friend from the 40s, not Bucky the way he is now. He can't stand that Bucky and I are together because he thinks the  _ real  _ Bucky is still… somewhere inside him, and if Steve just says the right series of magic words or something, I don't know, then that Bucky will come back. Thing is, Bucky got hit with the spell, too. Turned him into a nineteen year old. It was hell, for me, because he kept saying all these terrible, cheesy pick up lines to me, but it was also fun. Steve still didn't think that was enough, though, still didn't like that young Bucky was hitting on me."

"He  _ hit  _ you?" Steve asked, his voice going high and outraged.

Tony laughed. "Oh god, no. Not like that. It's an expression. Take it easy, pipsqueak, we only just got your heart back to a normal rhythm." Steve took a deep breath and willed himself to settle, like Tony said. "He was flirting with me. Better?" Steve nodded, a sour expression on his face. "What's with the face?"

"Was gettin' ready to get up and go kick Bucky's ass for hitting you," Steve grumbled. 

Tony laughed, again. Louder and easier and more warmly than the first one. "He'd let you, too, you know." Steve crossed his arms over his chest - careful of the IV shunt in his hand - and nodded. Good, he thought. "Anyway. Steve didn't like that too much. He thought I was taking advantage of the young Bucky when I finally gave in and just started throwing more awful lines back at him."

"What?" Steve asked, blinking in confusion. "Taking…  _ how _ ?" 

"I'm forty-eight, kiddo. Bucky was  _ nineteen _ . That's a thirty year age gap." Tony delivered the information with a perfectly blank face, no expression at all. But Steve could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fists were clenched. 

"And?" Steve asked, rolling his eyes. "This one girl, she used to live in my building, she was sixteen when she married a guy who was sixty. It happened, not a lot, but it happened. That guy was able to actually feed her and her family, and she liked him. Buck and I went to the wedding and I got sick from eating too much cake."

"Huh," Tony said. "How 'bout that." He shook his head. "Not the point. The point is, only thing young Bucky asked me for was a dance. So I took him to a place and we danced for a bit, and then Dr. Strange changed him back. We have the videos and everything. I didn't even  _ kiss _ him. It would have been weird, and I like  _ my  _ Bucky. The way he is."

"That's kind of weird," Steve said, making a face. "But it makes sense, I guess. About you not… not kissing him." Steve shrugged. "But you're a good person, so I don't get why the other me cares if you and Bucky are… are together." It was hard for Steve to talk about this openly. He was used to that sort of thing not being talked about. Of course it happened, but no one really  _ discussed _ it. And as long as it was kept private, everyone went on about their lives with no problems. Most as Steve could tell, a lot of folks didn't care. The ones that did were the same ones that were awful people in general, he'd found. 

Tony had an amused smile on his face. "I'm surprised you're taking that so well, I have to say." He crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair. "Bucky seemed like he didn't want me to mention it, but I think you'd already figured it out, and he didn't actually tell me not to."

Steve's lips twisted to the side. "If Bucky didn't want you to, you shouldn't have said nothin'," Stev grouched. "But… yeah. I knew. Could tell right away, almost. The way he looked at you in the living room. Made me jealous, a little. Bucky was trying too hard to… to smile too big and pretend like everything was okay when it wasn't. He never used to do that before. But when he saw you, he smiled for real, and I was jealous." Steve shrugged and couldn't look at Tony. "He's been more… well, this version of normal, I guess, since then. And he knows I know. About… about you two. And I don't care. He smiled at you and relaxed and if you can make him feel better, then that's all that matters." He said it like  _ he  _ was the one arguing this time, but he meant it. 

"Glowing recommendation, there, tiny Cap," Tony remarked dryly. Steve looked at him and found a mask over his face. He was pretending to be nonchalant and uncaring, but it wasn't working. Not at all, not against Steve. He could see the tightness around Tony's eyes, the way he had paled, the way his jaw jumped and twitched where he was gritting his teeth. 

"Older me is a  _ jackass _ ," Steve swore angrily. If the older version of him had made Tony feel that bad about being with Bucky, he was even more resolved to try and find a way to kick his own ass. 

"It's true and he should say it," FRIDAY chimed. Steve wasn't certain what she meant by that, but it made Tony crack a smile, and that - that was worth it. 

"Anyway, listen," Tony said, forcing himself to relax, "Bucky tried to duck out of therapy today because you were here. I  _ barely _ managed to convince him to go, and I only managed that because I promised to come and check on you. But FRIDAY mentioned something about you wanting to write a letter." Tony stood, then, and grabbed some stationary and a pen -  _ not _ , Steve noticed, the same set that had been delivered to him before - and he put it on the little table over the bed. "I figure you can do that for a while, and when you're done you can tell FRIDAY and I'll head back in here and we can watch a movie or something. Older you liked  _ The Princess Bride  _ a lot, so we can watch that. Then maybe some  _ Brooklyn 99 _ . Bucky gets a kick out of that one, and I think you might, too. I'll bring lunch and popcorn and everything."

"All right," Steve said with a nod. "Thank you, Tony." He thought about all the stuff Sam had said to him, about everything that Tony had been through. "I'm sorry, by the way. I know it wasn't… this me, but older me, but still. If that's who I end up becoming? Maybe… maybe I don't want you to change me back."

Tony smiled, wide and  _ fake _ . Steve hated it, but he understood it. "I won't say we can't do that, but think about it this way. No one else can be Captain America right now. World needs you, big you, to come back and fight the bad guys." With that, Tony left the room, and Steve frowned at the closed door. He didn't like bullies, never had, but right now, he would be willing to bet that the biggest bully out there was himself. Well. His  _ other  _ self.

Damn it all, this was confusing.

He picked up the pen instead and grabbed a sheet of the fancy paper and began to write. This was going to take a while. He had a lot to say.

* * *

 

Steve heard a lot about Clint and Natasha, but he never got to meet them. They were apparently trying to track down any information they could get their hands on about the magic guy - Artem. Vision and Wanda had tried, and failed, so Clint and Natasha were trying next. Steve didn't mind, much. He was okay with not meeting them, even if it seemed like Clint was one of Bucky's very good friends and Natasha was almost like a sister to him, or something. 

He'd been in 2016 for three days. He'd learned how to play Mario Kart well enough to actually complete a few laps. He'd watched movies and tv. He'd eaten really good food. He'd talked to Bucky and Sam and Tony a lot. He'd written himself a nasty letter. He'd then written himself a nicer letter, full of memories that he wasn't sure his older self recalled, if he was acting the way everyone said he was acting. He'd had fun. 

And then after breakfast, a man named Dr. Strange introduced himself. Steve couldn't follow a  _ word  _ of what the doctor - who didn't look like a doctor at all - and Tony were talking about. Bucky could, apparently, and so could Sam, but they weren't offering their helpful translations this time. Steve guessed it was too confusing. That made him bitter, but he put it aside. It wouldn't matter, soon. 

"Bucky?" he said. Bucky immediately looked at him. "Can I talk to you for a second? Before this guy fixes me?"

"Ain't nothin' to fix," Bucky said with the same mullish expression Steve recognized on his own face. He stood anyway, though, and he and Steve went to the kitchen. "What is it?"

"Tell the other me there are letters in his room. From me. He has to read them. Don't let him throw them away. Promise me, Buck."

"Do my best, Stevie," Bucky said with a nod. He didn't look happy. 

"What's wrong?" Steve asked with a frown. He could see Bucky's shoulders hunching the way they sometimes did when Bucky was feeling bad about something. It was more noticeable on this Bucky because his shoulders were broader. 

"Just gonna miss this version of you, a bit," Bucky said with a small, sad smile. "It was… it was nice. Not having to worry about the other you finding fault with everything Tony did or said. Or trying to blame my every choice on Tony."

Steve felt that nasty bitter feeling crop up again - the one he'd been feeling almost every time his older self was mentioned in the last two days. "I'm hoping my letters help with that," Steve said honestly, "but I won't make any promises. Not if older me is as much of a bully as he seems."

Bucky tensed at that. "He - he ain't, okay? He just… woke up one day, kinda like you, but instead of it bein' 1945, it was 2011. He didn't have anyone left, no one, and it was hard for him. He went in the ice thinkin' he was gonna die. And, yeah, he met Tony and the others pretty quick, but that wasn't easy, either. Tony just reminded him too much of Howard, and he knew he couldn't really trust Natasha or any of the other SHIELD people. Not at first. He did later, but it took a while. And no one liked him much at first, either. Steve was used to being the one in charge of the Howlies. Even Colonel Phelps let him get away with more than he really should have, but it was war and we were fighting HYDRA and we were doing pretty good at it, so why not? Steve woke up here, and suddenly everyone knew better than he did."

"That still doesn't excuse him bein' an ass to everyone, or him treatin' you like he's got any right to make your decisions for you," Steve said angrily. 

Bucky nodded. "You're right, and I ain't arguin' with that. But he thought I was dead, and he just wants his friend back. I can't ever be the Bucky Barnes I was back before the war, or even during it, but… maybe sometimes I feel guilty for that."

"You shouldn't," Steve said quietly. "Seems to me, you got a right to be a different person now. Whether you want to be or because you can't help it, that - that's not on me. Or big me. I ain't never tried to tell you what you could and couldn't do, Buck. And it ain't fair of big me to try to do it now, either." Bucky gave him a small, shaky smile. "Now c'mere and hug me, if that's all right, before I gotta go let this weird guy do whatever he's gonna do. And hey, if I remember any of this, it'll make for a fun story." Steve gave Bucky a lopsided grin, and Bucky huffed a quiet laugh.

Bucky did wrap his arms around Steve in a warm hug, though. Both arms went around Steve's skinny shoulders, and he could feel Bucky's nose pressed into his hair. Bucky had always been taller than he was, being a year older and far healthier, but he was even taller now, and it was weird. Still, Steve squeezed back with all the strength in his stick-thin arms. It was over almost too soon, but Steve didn't begrudge Bucky for that in the slightest. He clapped Bucky on his shoulder and turned on his heel to march back out to the living room. 

He interrupted the conversation taking place. "I'm ready."

* * *

Knowing he'd taken the equivalent of a magic bullet several days ago left a bitter taste in Steve's mouth. He never should have allowed that to happen. Bucky had given him a tight smile when he'd come around, then promptly sent him to his room, claiming there were letters he needed to read or something. Steve ignored it. He was bitter that, as he'd walked away, he'd noticed Bucky gravitating toward Tony - and it shouldn't have been like that. Bucky should have come with him to his room and made sure he was really okay, or asked if he needed anything, or  _ something _ . He didn't say anything, though, knowing his words would only be met with a lot of blank looks and quiet resistance. Even  _ Sam _ was on Tony's side, these days, and that was a kick in the teeth…

Of course he saw the letters when he got to his room, but he ignored them. They weren't important. Whatever anyone had to say that couldn't be said to his face was cowardly and trivial. Why bother reading them at all? He showered, instead, then fixed the table beside his chair - and who had been in his room messing with his things, anyway? - and then flopped on his bed. He was tired, which was unusual. He didn't ever really  _ get _ tired, not anymore, not the way the others did.

He didn't ask FRIDAY how things had gone. He didn't ask for a sitrep for the members of the team. He didn't even ask how Bucky was doing. About the only thing FRIDAY would tell him anymore was a general idea, anyway. Bucky had found out that Steve was asking after him all the damn time - because he was  _ worried _ \- and had told FRIDAY she wasn't allowed to tell him anything anymore. Steve didn't even have override clearance, anymore. Bucky had level four permissions in her system, and Steve only had level three. It burned him up inside because, clearly, Tony had done that on purpose and told Bucky he should make FRIDAY give the order. And that wasn't fair.

Tony was always manipulating people to do what he wanted them to do. He'd manipulated Bruce into helping him with ULTRON. He'd manipulated his way onto the team in the first place. He'd conned Natasha into staying in a place she clearly didn't want to be, and he'd manipulated Wanda, too, into forgiving him before she was ready to do so. Steve didn't really think Wanda  _ should  _ be angry with Tony, but he thought she was right to be - privately. Tony's bomb  _ had  _ been used to kill her parents, after all. If Tony had just been more responsible, or if he hadn't made weapons at all, then that never would have happened. But Tony was untouchable, and Steve?

Steve was the scapegoat for everything that had ever gone wrong. 

It was his fault for calling Tony out on his act back when they first met, for insulting him. It was his fault for not telling Tony that HYDRA had killed his parents - and he hadn't known Bucky had been used to do it, dammit, he  _ hadn't _ . It was his fault for blaming Tony for ULTRON, though the rest of the team had been just fine with that before. And it was his fault now for seeing how Tony was preventing Bucky from acting like his old self again. Even when Bucky had been changed into his nineteen year old self, Tony had been there, using those stupid pick-up lines to wrap Bucky around his finger and play him like a damn fiddle. Bucky was blind to it, though. They all were.

Too agitated to stay laying down, he sat up again. His eye caught on the letters. Plain white envelopes. No stamp. "FRIDAY, who sent those?" He crossed the room toward them. They weren't even addressed to anyone.

"They're from your younger self, Captain," FRIDAY answered. "He was quite insistent that you read them."

Steve picked up one of the envelopes and turned it over. It was sealed. He stuck his thumb under the flap and tore it open easily. There were several sheets of paper inside. He took them, and the other envelope, over to his chair and sat down to read.

_ Dear Steve, _

_ I have to say, it's real strange writing a letter to myself like this. We did something like it once, back in primary school. You remember that? Mrs. Johnson made us write letters to our future selves with all our hopes and dreams so that we could read them later and look back on everything we'd accomplished. I bet she never in her wildest dreams imagined it would work out like this, huh? _

Steve chuckled. Now that he thought about it, he could remember that. It was an old, old memory, faded and blurry around the edges. He remembered opening that letter right before he graduated high school and laughing with Bucky over some of the things they'd written to themselves. 

_ It's strange hearing about all the things I'm going to do, too. I'll be a super soldier? I'll grow up and get to look the way you do? It doesn't seem real. Everyone says it's the truth. That it won't hurt when I breathe, that I can run a mile in just a single minute. That I'll fight Nazis and other bad guys - that aliens and magic are real.  _

_ Reminds me of when we had that project the one time. We had to write our own story. I wrote about a bunch of guys who lived on the moon and came down to say hello. They were friendly, and they tried to pay for everything in space rocks. I even drew a little picture to go with it. That's when they started putting me in all those extra art classes. Bucky wrote about going to the moon himself, about meeting the same guys and trying to pay for their things with American dollars. We almost got in trouble for copying, but our stories were different, anyway.  _

Steve didn't remember that at all. He wondered if Bucky did. He made a note to himself to go ask him, later. Maybe it would be welcome. Sometimes, it wasn't. Often times, if he was honest. Bucky didn't seem very keen on remembering things from the past the way Steve was. 

_ FRIDAY said people had been to the moon already. That people were figuring out how to go to Mars, next, but that there were already robots up there. I like the robots here. They're funny little things. The one that brought me stationary to my - well your - room liked it when I gave him a pat. I'm kind of hoping I remember all this, just so I can tell Bucky. You know he loves all that science fiction stuff. He'd get a real kick out of a robot that acted kind of like a dog.  _

And… well, yeah. Bucky had loved those serials, hadn't he? Steve had sort of forgotten. It probably wasn't much of a surprise that Bucky was a lot better with the technology than Steve was. He'd… he'd figured out the kitchen appliances easily enough when Wanda had shown him how to work them a few months back, when he was just 19 and so painfully young.

The rest of the letter was more of the same. Memories from a time long, long past. Steve had forgotten so much of it. He'd outright laughed again and again, to the point of tears the one time when his younger self had described the time when Bucky's sister Rebecca had insisted they play dress up with her, and Steve wound up in a dress culled from Winnie Barnes' closet. Steve was so very glad there weren't pictures of that around. He was sure his sides would ache with how much he'd laughed at the anecdotes if it was possible for that sort of thing to happen to him.

There was a little postscript at the end of the letter, something about how his younger self was sorry the other letter was so crappy, but how he hoped the good memories would be enough to buoy him up again.

Steve opened the second letter with, upon reflection, less trepidation than he should have had.

_ Dear Steve, _

_ It's real strange hearing all about myself from a bunch of people that claim this is the future. I'm in a real nice hospital bed because of my heart right now - I'm sure you remember all those times, with Ma - and I've got a robot without a body called FRIDAY playing some music while I write this, so I guess this probably isn't some crazy fever dream. If it is, I'm sort of hoping I don't wake up. _

_ This version of Bucky is a lot different. _ Steve snorted. Yes, he was. That was an understatement.  _ But he's still Bucky underneath all the awful stuff he's been through. I'm thinking you need to remember that.  _

And - what? 

_ Before you get it in your head that someone told me to write to you, just stop. No one knows about these letters except for FRIDAY, and she promised to keep it secret. She's real nice like that. Says everything I ask her is secret, too. Tony gave me the paper, but I think he's convinced I'm going to write a letter to Bucky. And I might do that, too, now that I've thought about it. Might be good for him to have some of the good memories, too.  _

_ No one knows I'm writing this. No one told me to write it. No one thinks I  _ _ should _ _ write to you. None of that. So as you read this, keep that in mind. _

_ You're a damn bully, Steve Rogers _ .

And,  _ what _ ? Steve blinked in shock. His mother would have washed his mouth out with the nastiest soap she could get her hands on if she'd heard him curse like that. And he was a  _ bully _ ? Since when?

_ I got Sam to tell me what all happened to me - well, you -, Bucky, and Tony. Bucky hasn't said much himself. I guess he probably doesn't want me thinking about it too much. Tony has said even less. Tony acts so damn scared of me - and you remember exactly how small I am, or you  _ _ better  _ _ \- and that just doesn't seem right. Seeing as how he's only known me for two days, I'm going to have to blame you for that one. _

_ What are you doing, Steve? Even Bucky doesn't want to be around you the way you are now. He's beating himself up because of it, too. He thinks you only want him the way he was before - before all that stuff with HYDRA happened to him. That isn't fair. He's changed a lot because of all the things that have happened. So have you.  _

_ You're blaming Tony for it, and you need to stop. Tony is letting Bucky figure out who he wants to be in the future, and that's more important, isn't it? Bucky wants his memories, even the bad ones. You don't have the right to try to take those from him. You can call it protecting him or whatever else you want, but I know one thing. Bucky hasn't ever needed me to protect him before, and he doesn't need it now. He probably doesn't appreciate you trying, either. He was always better at taking care of other people than letting anyone take care of him.  _

_ I'm not saying you shouldn't stop trying to look out for him. He's your best friend. You're going to do that anyway. But you can't make decisions for him, and you can't control his life. _

_ Maybe you don't think that's what you're doing. Maybe you do. I don't know. Maybe you think you know better than he does. Maybe you don't. Maybe you think that someone will hurt him again. Well, that's going to happen anyway, probably. Bucky always was a terrible flirt.  _

_ Bucky doesn't need you to treat him like you're better than he is. That's how he feels right now. Sure, he didn't say that, but I can see it.  _

_ Do you remember Dad at all? He would come home drunk, a lot. I had to learn how to look at him real close, how to listen to the way he said things rather than what he said. I had to figure out when things were going to get bad before they ever did. Ma was always worried I wouldn't survive it if he decided he was gonna tan my hide again. Hiding away made him madder, though, so I had to learn to look at him and figure out what was really going on. It worked on Ma, too. And Bucky. And a lot of our teachers.  _

_ You need to figure out how to do that again if you forgot. I can see a lot more than what these guys are telling me with their words.  _

_ Bucky loves Tony. I think you're an idiot if you haven't figured that out, or if you don't want him to, or if you don't want them together. Bucky relaxes around Tony. He doesn't act the same as he used to, sure. I didn't expect him to. But all those fake smiles hurt to look at. I can't see why you'd like them any more than I do. I'd rather Bucky be happy with Tony than miserable because he's too worried about upsetting  _ _ me _ _ you. Tony makes Bucky feel better and you don't have any place trying to take that away from him.  _

_ If I'm smart enough to figure all that out, then I know you're smart enough to do the right thing and fix your mistakes. Ma always said that an apology wasn't worth anything unless you paired it with the right actions.  _

_ Before I forget, please don't try to make Bucky go out and fight anymore. He doesn't want to.  _

_ I hope you'll make the right decision.  _

_ All the best, _

_ Steve Rogers _

Steve stared at the letter in shock. What was all that? He picked it up again and read over it for a second time. And then a third time.

Was that really what he was doing? Honestly? He… he hadn't thought of any of it like that. Bucky had never said anything! He was tempted to go and find Bucky and show him the letter and ask him just how much of it was true, to demand answers, but… Well. That sort of behavior was what had gotten him in this mess in the first place, wasn't it?

He still didn't like the idea of Bucky and Tony together, but maybe he owed Bucky that much. If Tony really did make Bucky happy, after everything he'd been through, then how could he justify standing in the way of that?

And he got it, okay? He had been unfair to Tony. He had been, and he knew it. He still didn't  _ like _ Tony, and he still thought Tony was manipulative, but… maybe his instincts were right but his guess about  _ what  _ Tony was manipulating them to do and think wasn't quite as right as he'd thought. That one would take a while to prove. He'd just have to watch and listen. 

And his younger self had a point. He hadn't felt the need to study everyone and try to figure out what they were  _ really  _ saying, not since the USO tour. Probably before that. What was the point? His father was dead and never coming back, and he regularly threw himself into fights all the time. He didn't have anything to fear from someone tanning his hide. 

But Natasha wore masks like they were going out of style. He knew that. He'd always known that. And she was impossible to read. Everyone said so. Steve… hadn't ever really bothered to try, had he? Maybe he should. 

He couldn't just apologize, though. And certainly not right now. He needed to wait, and watch, and see if things really were the way his younger self said they were before he did anything too hasty. But he could  _ watch _ in a way he hadn't tried to do in decades - excluding time in the ice. 

He felt better with a plan. That was his thing, after all. _The Man with a Plan_. Hopefully it wouldn't fail him this time the way it had failed Bucky back in 1945. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> couple things  
> Steve has NOT been redeemed or forgiven yet  
> but this is what he needed to start him on the right path to get his fucking shit together and start trying to make amends and all that stuff  
> next - Sam telling little steve all that about tony & bucky  
> it was decided among everyone that if someone else was de-aged, then sam or vision would probably be the best ones to handle the explanations because they were the most neutral (not completely unbiased, but not as likely to swing totally in one direction or another); it was also decided that vision and sam got to say as much as they felt they could based on comprehension and age - so, steve is 14 and fairly intelligent, and sam told him everything. tony had given prior consent to that sort of conversation taking place, since everyone knew about it anyway, and it was basically just telling the same person twice. (no one is running to tell the press, after all)  
> i also wanted to show that even sam had pretty much written steve off in this chapter - and i think? hope? i managed to accomplish that. steve has been a Huge Dick
> 
> i've got at least two more chapters actually planned, but i'm thinking of adding an interlude, too, with just some bucky/tony time. not sure. we'll see how it all works out.
> 
> [come scream with me on tumblr](https://shyglittercreature.tumblr.com/)


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